


the little things you need to grow

by princealliance (anaksemuabangsa)



Series: little things [1]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Kim Jongin | Kai, College Student Mark Lee (NCT), Depression, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moving On, Pining, Recovery, References to Depression, Side Xiubaek, Single Parent Kim Jongin | Kai, Slow Burn, Top Mark Lee (NCT), original kid character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26531296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaksemuabangsa/pseuds/princealliance
Summary: A summer of playing good neighbors leads to second chances. At love, for Jongin. And at something else entirely, for Mark.Written for honeyboyficfest prompt no #HB1-011.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee (NCT)
Series: little things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082207
Comments: 63
Kudos: 230
Collections: Honey Boy: Round 1





	1. Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt No #HB1-011. Hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Thank you for [leo](https://twitter.com/bottomyutoda) for giving this fic a read! Mind the tags.

-

_tastes like strawberries_

_on a summer evening_

_and it sounds just like a song_

-

The apartment next door had always been empty, as long as Mark remembers in his three-year stay in his. The door over houses Baekhyun and Minseok, the picture perfect gay couple who swamps Mark with too much food (Minseok) and destroys his ass in battleground (Baekhyun). When Minseok had sent the text in their group chat (the group chat is named _daddies and Mark_ , courtesy of Baekhyun) saying _heads up, new neighbors, dad and his kid_ , Mark didn't expect much. A balding man in his 40s, maybe. Or a person who wears too much plaid and dad jeans. Pictures a tired face and an even more tired smile and an accompanying 3-foot-devil pulling at his pants. Mark had promptly accepted the fact and tosses it out to the backburner of his brain where the rest of his landscaping theories lie.

That's why when Mark steps off the elevator on his floor, tired from all of his classes and ready for a well-deserved nap, and finds an _angel_ surrounded by cardboard boxes, he had not promptly made the connection he should have. Mark pauses, mouth open and eyes wide.

Mark forgoes his apartment completely and approaches the man with a smile. The man looks up when Mark is close enough, and yeah, god definitely sent an angel.

"Hello," he greets in formal, bowing a good 90-degree-angle bow because Minseok would whoop his ass if he didn't.

"Good afternoon," the man replies, bowing himself. The man straightens up and Mark finally, _finally_ , gets a clear look on his face.

Talk about _gorgeous_.

He has one of those pair of lips that you'd want to kiss all the time, and a voice that will lull you straight into sleep if you hear him talk for too long.

Mark's first train of thought is _angel,_ continued by _hot_ and then _who is this_.

Mark nods at the boxes. All as tall as his knees scattered around the man. "Need help with those?"

The man seems to consider this for a while, before nodding sheepishly. "Yeah, I've been trying to get them in but the door keeps swinging close whenever I go out."

"The stopper behind the door doesn't work?" Mark asks.

"It's broken, I'm gonna call the landlord tomorrow."

Mark hums thoughtfully, pulls on the straps of his bag. "I think I have something that can help with that. Wait a minute please?"

The man replies with a blinding smile. "Okay."

Mark walks back to his own apartment, makes quick work of the locks and leans his bag against the wall of his entrance, doesn't even bother taking off his shoes. Then he slides open his shoe rack, and pulls out a rubber doorstop.

Mark gets up, closes his own door open and goes back to the man, whose smile widens when he sees Mark carrying the doorstop.

"Ta-da!" Mark says, brandishing the doorstop in his hand.

"Oh that'd be a great help. Thank you so much," the man rushes.

Mark shakes his head. "No problem. Now lead the way."

The man keeps repeating his thanks, even as he opens the door to his apartment and squats down to jam the doorstop in the space between the door and the floor. Mark barely hears him, all he can think about is _ass._

Mark stops staring when he feels eyes on him, and turns his head to catch two big eyes watching him from the end of the hallway. A little girl, as tall as Mark's hip, with a little bow on top of her head.

"Oh," Mark says softly, glancing between the kid who's observing him quietly and the man in front of him. Realization dawning upon him, putting two and two together. "You're the dad and the kid."

"That's me," the man agrees, straightening up.

"Minseok-hyung told me," Mark explains. "Wait, I haven't introduced myself have I--I'm Mark Lee, I live next door." Mark says, bowing again.

"Figured out as much," the man chuckles, and isn't _that_ a pleasant laugh. "Kim Jongin," he says, walking to the little step that separates the entrance and the hallway, stopping just before it. He reaches a hand over to the kid. The little girl immediately and sidles up to Jongin, hugging his leg and clutching at his jeans, peering up from behind Jongin's legs. "This is Haerin. Haerin, say hi to uncle Mark."

Mark grins, crouches down to meet the kid's eyes and bows his head. "Mark Lee, at your service."

The kid looks at him curiously. "My name's Kim Haerin. I'm five years old." She says. "Nice to meet you uncle Mark."

"You can call me oppa, Haerin," Mark looks up at Jongin for his approval. Encouraged when he gives Mark a little nod. Mark shrugs. "It's fine."

Haerin giggles, it's the first real smile she'd offered Mark and Mark swears it looks just like Jongin's. Mark is a tiny bit endeared.

"Okay, Mark-oppa."

"Haerin-ah," Jongin starts. "Daddy's going to get all the boxes in, okay? Could you wait for me in the living room?"

Haerin looks up at his dad and nods. "Yes, daddy."

And then she's off, small feet pattering on the wood covering of the floor.

Mark sighs, staring after her. "She's cute."

"She is."

"The boxes," Mark says, startled into motion, remembers the dozen or so boxes still left outside. He doesn't see any other adult in the perimeter. Jongin must be the only one, then. That'll take a while. "Let me help you with that."

"Oh no, Mark-ssi, you've helped me enough."

"I insist," Mark, well, insists. "Please." He adds, just for emphasis that neighbors _stick_ together.

Jongin opens his mouth to start protesting, but Mark just bypasses him, goes outside and bends down to heave a heavy box into his arms. He grins at a frowning Jongin looking from the doorway.

"So, Jongin-ssi," Mark says, "where do I put this?"

-

Mark ends up staying for tea and cookies that Jongin miraculously procured from his bare kitchen. The tea smells like something fancy that Minseok would like, green with white tiny little flowers bobbing on the surface. Jongin serves it in a dainty, flower-patterned white mug. It matches the mug he set in front of Haerin and himself.

"We moved here because it's closer to my job," Jongin explains, answering Mark's question. Haerin is munching quietly on the cookies. She stops taking a piece to drink from her mug. Milk in it instead of tea.

Jongin's eyes don't stray from her for a couple of seconds, until Haerin sets the mug back on the table.

"And Haerin's new school is close to here, too," Jongin says, ruffling his daughter's hair.

Haerin just blinks and peers up at Mark with curious eyes. He feels judged somehow. By a five year old. Mark feels sweat bead at the back of his neck.

"You're starting school soon, Haerin-ah?" Mark asks.

Haerin nods. "I'm six years old so I'm going to school." She answers. "Dad said there's no more naptime."

"You can still have naps at home, baby." Jongin chuckles.

Haerin nods, quieting down again. She's staring resolutely at Mark. Like she's trying to figure him out. Mark would find it creepy, but she's kind of pouting a little, and pouting kids strike no fear in Mark's heart.

"What's up Haerinnie," Mark asks.

"How old are you, oppa?"

Mark blinks. "Oppa is twenty-two."

"Oh," Haerin says, tilting her head in thought. "Daddy's twenty-nine. So daddy is Mark-oppa's hyung?"

"Yes, that's right," Mark says. "Smart girl." 

"Why is your name like that, oppa?" Haerin asks, leans forward in her seat and squinting at Mark.

Ah, the million dollar question.

"Well, my father is from Canada," Mark explains. "I was born in Canada too so I got an English name. I have a Korean name though. Minhyung."

"Minhyung-oppa," Haerin says carefully, sounding the name out.

"Yes, you can call me Minhyung if Mark is hard for you, Haerin-ah."

Haerin seems to take that into offense, frown deepening. "I'm a big girl." She puffs out her chest indignantly. "I can speak English, it's okay."

Mark quirks up a smile. Kid's got spunk. "Yes, of course."

Jongin, who has been watching carefully and not saying anything, snorts quietly. 

He pushes the cookie jar towards Mark, lips curled up in an ever present, amused smile.

"More cookies, Mark-ssi?"

-

"Have you met our new neighbor yet?" Mark asks, shoveling chopsticks after chopsticks of Minseok's stir-fried gluten and _something_ into his mouth. It's some kind of imported root vegetable. Minseok is on an extra health kick and is ditching meat for a month. Not that Minseok needs it. The health freak that he is. Mark doesn't know what their mystery ingredient is today but it's delicious as heck. As all things Minseok cooks are.

"Close your mouth when you're chewing." Minseok narrows his eyes at Mark, lowering his chopsticks. "And no, we haven't."

"We should, shouldn't we, hyung? I heard he has the cutest baby girl," Baekhyun chimes in. Eating as messily as Mark is. "I want to see the baby."

"Well," Mark replies, slowing down, stealing a piece of mystery vegetable from Baekhyun's bowl, who yelps at him. "She's not a baby, just tiny." 

Baekhyun is petty enough even in his thirties to steal a piece of meat back from Mark's bowl.

"Hyung," Mark whines.

"Here," Minseok consoles, pushing the plate of vegetable towards Mark.

Baekhyun, of course, pulls the plate towards him.

Minseok sighs. Baekhyun just grins at him.

"All right," Minseok concedes, "let's go together tomorrow. After we shop."

-

They pick out a small potted cactus to give to Jongin and his daughter, and bicker over the parcel. Minseok wants to give them a fruit basket. Baekhyun snickers and pulls out a parcel entirely made of cookies.

Minseok and Baekhyun have been together long enough to have the same arguments multiple times. Instead of talking it out like any normal person would, they just stand there in the middle of the cookie aisle, looking at each other with their parcels in their hands. It would be kind of comical, if Minseok didn't have murder eyes and the line of Baekhyun's mouth wasn't set so hard.

Mark drops his head between his shoulders, leaning his elbows against the cart. He sighs.

"You both are ridiculous," Mark scolds them very, _very_ sternly. "We're getting them a fruit cake." 

-

They end up getting a chocolate cake because, apparently, it's a shared indulgence for the both of them. Minseok insists on making a macaroni dish (despite them being Korean and have already gotten their new neighbors an 8-pack toilet paper _and_ a nice potted cactus), neatly baked in an aluminum disposable square dish. It smells heavenly, and is still warm by the time Mark knocks on Jongin's door.

Jongin opens the door, surprise overtakes his face. They must look quite a sight. Mark cradling the potted cactus in one hand, a bag of toilet papers hanging from his other hand. Minseok is brandishing his macaroni proudly, while Baekhyun is balancing the cake precariously on open palms.

"Hi," Minseok greets pleasantly. Stealing Jongin's gaze away from Mark. "We're your new neighbors."

-

"Thank you for the gifts."

Jongin pulls out plate after plate from the cabinet, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out spoons and forks too. He passes them around, setting everything neatly on the table. It was Minseok's idea to show up exactly at lunch time, and as Mark knew Minseok had predicted, Jongin invited them to stay.

Mark sits on the same chair as he did the day before, yet another cup of tea in front of him. Baekhyun is cutting the chocolate cake carefully in front of him, while Haerin makes a commentary on the lines.

"Ah! Uncle you have to cut it like this!" Haerin says, her small hand making a chopping motion on top of the cake. "And then you go like this." She chops her imaginary half into quarters. "So the cakes will be even."

"Alright, alright." Baekhyun says. "Stand back now Haerin-ah, I'm about to pull out my sword to cut this cake."

Baekhyun makes a zinging sound, and pulls out his knife. Haerin leans back to her seat and squeals excitedly.

"Sword! Sword!"

"It's only right, Jongin-ssi," Minseok answers, loud enough to drag Mark's attention back to him.

"I should do a proper housewarming party one of these days," Jongin smiles sheepishly. Sliding into a chair himself. He was handsome yesterday and he's handsome today, too. Black shirt stretched over his chest, a chain of silver necklace around his neck, extending to his chest, with two gold bands hanging from it.

Gold bands. Two. Not on a finger but as a necklace.

"Dad! Look, uncle Baaekhyun cut the cake real pretty," she says, bouncing in her seat.

Jongin perks up and looks over to the cake, letting out a wondrous _ah_. "That's so neat. You're very good with a knife, Baekhyun-ssi."

" _Duh_ , dad," Haerin says, rolling her eyes, "uncle is a doctor! Like uncle Dae!"

Baekhyun's gaze flickers towards Minseok, and then at Jongin. Grinning, pleased. "You have a doctor in the family?"

"Yeah!" Haerin answers readily instead of Jongin. "Unchle Dae's a doctor who cuts people up," she says seriously. "Dad fell down and cut his arm, so uncle Dae stitched him back together. He has a very important job."

"I'm sure," Baekhyun answers, just as serious. "Surgeons have a _very_ important job."

"Do you cut people up too, uncle?"

"No, aegi-ya," Baekhyun ruffles her hair. "I'm a special doctor who cures cute children like you."

Haerin beams and giggles, pleased by Baekhyun's compliment.

"Your brother is a surgeon? " Minseok comments, scooping some of his gooey, cheesy macaroni goodness to a plate. They're seated around the table, Mark slides a plate of macaroni in front of Jongin and Baekhyun, and one with a smaller portion to Haerin.

"Yeah, he's a surgeon over at Sacred Heart."

Minseok hums. "I've been there."

Minseok and Jongin talk about Jongin's family. Mark pays very little attention, directs it to Baekhyun and Haerin instead, who are chatting very happily about the things that they both like to do in the summer.

He's sorta mesmerized by the little kid. Mark doesn't see much of children. Except for Donghyuck's little sister, and he only sees her in passing. When Donghyuck's family is in town and Donghyuck's parents treat him out for dinner. Donghyuck's little sister was 11 when they first met, and she was big enough to talk about liking boys and girls and was especially shy around Mark.

Haerin is small. Smaller than Donghyuck's sister. Smaller than any kid Mark has ever seen.

"I like swimming," Haerin explains. "I like swimming with Doyoungie and Jenjen. They can't swim so they stay in the little kid pool all the time," Haerin rambles. "But I can swim." She puffs up her chest proudly. "Daddy taught me how to swim and I'm _really_ good at it."

Mark hums. "I like swimming too," he says. Injecting himself to the conversation. "We should go swimming before the summer ends," Mark offers, glancing at Jongin. "There's a pool nearby that me and Baekhyunnie-hyung like going to."

Haerin's mouth drops open in a big O. She turns her big, pleading eyes to Jongin. "Please, daddy? Please?"

Jongin smiles at her. "Of course, aegi-ya. We'll talk about it. Finish your meal first. Okay?"

Jongin must be some kind of kid whisperer (or he's just her dad, a voice that sounds surprisingly like Donghyuck supplies from the back of his mind), because Haerin eats her food without complaints, stopping once in a while to ask Baekhyun about being a doctor and Mark about Canada.

"I'm actually looking for a place that offers swimming lessons for kids. Haerin likes it so much and she wants to get serious about it."

"I think Taeyeon-noona's sister teaches swimming for kids," Baekhyun offers. "She's our pediatric physiotherapist. I'll ask her later."

Jongin smiles. That same blinding smile that had Mark's mouth going dry. "Thank you, Baekhyun-ssi." 

"You're welcome, Jongin."

Jongin then turns his attention to Minseok. "What do you do, Minseok-ssi?"

"I'm an architect," Minseok answers. "Like this brat is about to be." He jabs a thumb at Mark.

"Hey." Mark frowns, distracted. "I take offense in that."

"So Mark is an architecture student?" Jongin smiles at him again, and god he really is too attractive.

"Yeah, I'm in my final year."

"It seems that I'm surrounded by architects," Jongin remarks. "My oldest brother is an architect too." He elaborates, chuckling and linking his fingers together.

"How many brothers do you have, Jongin-ssi?"

"Just two. I'm the youngest of three."

"I see."

"My brother is the head of a firm, actually," Jongin continues, "you might know him? Kim Junmyeon?"

"Junmyeon-sunbaenim, I know him, I think." Minseok confirms. " _Exploration_ , right? He was my upperclassman in university, actually." 

Jongin's eyes widen at the revelation, mouth forming an O. The resemblance to his daughter is uncanny, Mark can't help staring.

"Small world."

"Indeed."

"Maybe I know this doctor brother of yours, too, Jongin-ah." Baekhyun cuts in.

"That would be great, actually. It'll be like we're all family." Jongin chuckles. "Kim Jongdae? Ring any bells?"

Baekhyun pauses to think, shakes his head after a while. "Sorry, I'm afraid not." 

The conversation drops into a lull afterwards, only broken by Haerin asking questions and Mark answering some of them. Baekhyun shoots him a questioning look, and grins when Mark blushes.

"Dad, this is delicious," Haerin whispers at Jongin.

"Do you like it? Uncle Minseok made it."

Haerin smiles at Minseok. "I like this very much. Thank you, uncle."

Mark can see the very _moment_ Minseok melts at the little kid. Eyes and mouth softening around the edges. It's adorable. Mark will hold it against Minseok forever.

"Ah, yes," he stammers, straightening in his seat like he's addressing a national guest. "You're welcome, Haerin."

-

Lunch ends with the four adults chattering away. Jongin hesitates when Haerin looks at one of the cakes longingly. Mark knows hell about kids but he knows, at least, that Haerin won't finish one if she eats alone. Not after the second of serving of macaroni she just had.

Mark scoots her chair closer to the little girl's, and pulls one of the cakes plated neatly into a small saucer by Minseok, and holds out a spoon.

"Haerin-ah, do you want to split a cake with oppa?"

Haerin nods, and says the politest "yes please," in history. Mark lets her have the first bite.

Baekhyun washes the dishes while Minseok leans agains the counter next to him. Jongin is putting away food, chatting amicably with Minseok.

"Are you two together?"

The question catches even Mark off guard, Mark's voice falters where he'd been talking to Haerin. He strains his ears, doesn't have to look to know the tenseness of Baekhyun's shoulder. Minseok's resigned smile.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Minseok asks, voice quiet. 

Mark doesn't dare breathe, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"No," Jongin answers. "I just thought you guys were being really obvious." 

There's a pause where everything rearranges itself and clicks, like dust motes settling after they're shaken into the air. Mark lets out a quiet, relieved breath. Baekhyun's shoulders relax.

"We'll be more careful in the future," Minseok says, his eyes meet Mark's, before sliding over to Haerin. "If that's something you're concerned about."

"You don't have to, Minseok-ssi," Jongin answers. "Haerinnie and I understand."

Minseok doesn't answer, and Mark looks away before he can determine the expression on Minseok's face, distracted by Haerin pulling on his hand.

"Oppa, can I have the cherry?" Haerin asks.

Mark blinks. "Of course." 

"Thank you, Jongin-ssi." Minseok says, voice so soft Mark would've missed it. If he wasn't used to listening to Minseok's voice. "I really appreciate it."

-

"I like our new neighbors," Baekhyun says, rummaging through the fridge for something to accompany his tea time. There's always something to eat in hyungs' house. With Baekhyun's tendency to stress bake. Said man pulls out a container of brownies, and sets them down on the table. He pulls out a chair and takes a seat on Mark's right. Minseok sits down in front of him, sliding a steaming mug of tea to Baekhyun.

Mark followed the hyungs' to their apartment after they bid their goodbyes to Jongin and Haerin. Afternoon light streams in from their windows, bathing the living room in a soft light. Their layout is similar to Mark's. There's a low, rectangular coffee table and a couch facing the TV, a wall behind the couch. There's a love seat on the long end of the coffee table.

Their furniture set is similar even to the coffee color of the couch, and the oblong, wooden feet of the short table. The only difference is the hyungs' flat screen TV (which is about 5 inches bigger than Mark's), and a replica of Van Gogh's sunflower on hanging on the wall above the couch (Mark put up a poster of his favorite girl group instead, sue him).

Well, that, and the lack of textbooks and papers strewn about. Hyungs' apartment is always so clean.

It's an open area from the kitchen to the living room, with a round dining table in between that could easily fit four people. The one in Jongin's place had been rectangular. Fit for more people. Mark liked it, liked the smooth wooden top. Liked the chairs, too. He should try to get Minseok to change his. So their dining table will finally be big enough for Mark to work his sketches on without having to take up all the space.

"I like our new neighbors too, hyung," Mark murmurs, folding his hands on top of the table and dropping his head on top of them.

"Babe," Baekhyun starts, "Kyungsoo said the hospital isn't going to do an annual bake sale this year."

"Why? But you were looking forward to it."

Mark closes his eyes, lets himself be lulled by the flow of conversation between Minseok and Baekhyun. There's a pattern to their back and forth that comforts Mark. A familiarity in each other that comes from being together for so long. It's disgustingly sweet, and disgustingly domestic, and disgustingly comforting.

Mark doesn't even realize they'd stop talking, suddenly registering Baekhyun shaking his shoulder gently.

"Mark, are you sleepy?" He asks softly. "Go nap on the couch. You'll get a crick in your neck like that."

Mark inhales sharply and blinks his eyes open. He groans, stretching out. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Mark hums. "I think I'm going to go back home now."

"Here," Minseok places two purple tupperwares in front of Mark. "This one is kimchi, this one is macaroni. We're going out tomorrow afternoon, but let's have dinner together afterwards."

"You sure?" Mark gathers the tupperwares close, stacking them together. He grins. "You won't need some _alone_ time tomorrow?"

Minseok gives him a withering stare while Baekhyun laughs.

"No," Minseok says, at the same time as Baekhyun yells out "we're having sex _tonight_ you fool!"

Mark laughs, and promptly skedaddles out of their apartment, tupperwares in hand. Before Baekhyun could traumatize him further. It won't be the first time he does.

-

Mark doesn't see or hear Jongin or Haerin for a week. When he does it's when Jongin is locking the door to his apartment, Haerin's small hand in his.

"Going out, hyung?" Mark asks as a hello. "Good morning, Haerin-ah, I like your hair today."

"Thank you," Haerin beams. "Daddy did it for me."

Haerin's hair is done in an elaborate fishbraid, before going around her head once, a couple of pretty pink bobby pins keeping it in place.

"Mark-ssi," Jongin greets him. "Yes, we're going to the park."

"Oh," Mark says, gestures to his clothes, his trainers and breathable shirt. He plucks it out from where it stuck to his skin, wet with sweat from when he'd been running, and then to Jongin and Haerin. "We should've gone together, I run there on weekends."

"I see." Jongin smiles at him. "Next weekend, then."

Mark nods. "I'll hold you to it."

-

The community park near their apartment building is built for families. It has a decent jogging track, spanning 750 meters a loop. Mark goes there and runs on weekends, to keep up with the habit he got from his years of track in high school. The park is also equipped with a state-of-the-art playground. Perfect for kids, considering all the apartments surrounding it.

"Mark, wait--wait," Baekhyun pants, doubling over with his hands on his knees.

Mark sighs and turns around, jogs in place while Baekhyun wheezes. "Keep up, old man."

Baekhyun groans, stumbling forward to swat Mark on the arm. "Shut up."

"I told you to go on your own pace." Mark laughs. They're only on their third lap, barely fifteen minutes in. Minseok had sicced Baekhyun on Mark, telling him it'd go Baekhyun some good to get some exercise in.

Baekhyun pulls on his shirt, fans himself with it. The fabric is limp between his fingers, wet with perspiration. "Yeah, I think I'll go do that, you go on."

Mark shrugs. "Alright, I'll see you later."

He pushes forward, puts one foot in front of the other. Mark savors the burn in his lungs, the wind rustling over his hair, the sweat running down his back and his temples. The trees around him pass in a collage. He likes the green view, likes the feel of morning sun beating down his back.

He overtakes Baekhyun three times, before he slows down to a jog. Mark fishes his phone out of his trainers, and finds that he'd run a total of 45 mins and had closed on 6k. Not bad.

He jogs another lap before slowing down to a walk, trying to catch his breath. He joins an already walking Baekhyun, and bumps his shoulder against him. Baekhyun shoots a glare at him.

"You should work out more."

"I shall do no such thing," Baekhyun replies, wiping sweat off his brows. "I'm perfectly content being the twink in my relationship."

Mark curls his nose. "Ew."

They cross the park to the children's area, where Minseok and Jongin are chatting on a bench, the both of them keeping an eye on Haerin who's playing on the playground.

"Hyung," Baekhyun whines, draping himself all over Minseok's unsuspecting back.

Minseok. _The_ Kim Minseok. Squeaks, and tries to shake Baekhyun off. But Baekhyun just whines and tightens his arms around Minseok's neck.

"Get off! You stink!" Minseok shouts, squirming against Baekhyun's hold.

"But hyung, I'm so tired," Baekhyun whines some more.

Jongin laughs, the sound musical and pleasant in the bustling playground. Mark joins in, taking in the bottle of water he'd left with the two hyungs earlier.

"This brat." Baekhyun points to Mark with his thumb, righting himself up and taking the bottle of water offered by an exasperated Minseok. "Ran me ragged earlier."

"You should work out more," Minseok comments.

Mark giggles, mouths an _I told you so_ at Baekhyun who retaliates by sticking his tongue out at him. 

"How do you usually work out, Jongin-ssi?" Baekhyun asks instead.

"There was a gym I went to when I was living with my mother," Jongin explains. "But I've been so busy nowadays, and I can't exactly leave Haerin to herself for two hours in our apartment."

Minseok purses his lips. "Well, I gym every evening in our gym, if you ever want to join."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind, Minseok-ssi."

"Be careful, Jongin-ssi," Mark whispers, capping his bottle. "Minseok-hyung's regime is _brutal._ I came with him once and I gave up, and I used to do _track._ " 

Minseok jabs his fingers against Mark's side. It hurts, but it's worth the delighted laugh Jongin gives him.

Jongin looks up at him. Pretty eyelashes framing his pretty eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, too."

-

Jongin goes to get Haerin half an hour later, she looks tired, but she's smiling when Jongin hands her her water bottle. Her hair is in a state of slight disarray, some strands coming loose from her braid. Mark offers to redo it for her. Haerin shakes her head politely.

"Daddy's the only one who can do my hair."

Jongin chuckles. "That's right. I like doing it so much, I won't let anyone else to do Haerin's hair."

Mark buys an ice cream on the way back, one of those double chocolate sticks that melts if you don't eat it fast enough. Haerin stares longingly at the ice cream in his hand, and Mark isn't mean and he knows kids shouldn't have too much dessert, but what the hell.

Mark breaks the sticks in half, and holds it out for Haerin. "You want the other half, Haerin-ah?" Mark asks.

Haerin looks up at Jongin hesitantly. Jongin just nods. Haerin beams and nods too. Grabbing it from Mark's hand.

"Thank you, oppa."

"You're welcome, Haerinnie."

"You guys are going to spoil her rotten, I swear." Jongin chuckles.

"Well," Mark says, "isn't that what good neighbors do?"

-

Mark has dinner with Minseok when he can. It's a routine he's perfected over the years. Mark survives solely on Minseok's healthy food and nothing else. The occasional pizza and takeout now and then, but he wouldn't trade his quality dinner with Minseok for anything. It's as good a routine as it is for Minseok, too. So it kind of catches him off guard when Minseok tells him to go next door and invite Jongin and Haerin over.

"Mark-ya," Minseok says, "see if Jongin and Haerin are next door. Invite them over for dinner, please."

Mark pauses the taptap game on his phone and looks up. "Jongin-hyung and Haerin?"

"Yes. I made too much food," Minseok says as an excuse, fussing over the chicken on the stove and wiping his hand on a towel.

Mark shrugs and goes out, still hopping into his sandals even by the time he's pressing the bell to Jongin's apartment.

Jongin opens the door, a bright grin in place when he sees Mark.

"Mark," Jongin says, his breathing slightly heavy. Mark wonders if he was playing with Haerin. "What can I do for you?"

"Sorry for bothering you, hyung. Minseok-hyung wondered if you wanted to have dinner with us?" Mark asks.

"Oh you don't have to--"

"Oppa!" Haerin squeals, coming up from behind Jongin and popping from under his arms. Her feet are bare, Mark grins at her.

"Hello, Haerin," Mark says. "I was asking your dad if you guys wanted to eat dinner with me and Minseok-hyung."

"Uncle Minseok?" Haerin asks. "Dad, can we? Can we please?" She looks up at him.

Jongin hesitates, but Mark knows he's going to cave in. As much as Jongin says they're spoiling her rotten, he knows Jongin is worse at denying his kid.

"Alright baby, but we have to clean up your toys first, then we'll go next door, okay?"

Haerin nods, bounding back inside.

Jongin gives Mark a helpless smile and a shrug. As if to say _kids, what are you gonna do?_ Mark doesn't exactly relate to the sentiment, but he understands.

"I'll catch up with you, Mark."

"Alright."

Mark says his goodbyes and walks back to Minseok's place, whistling.

-

Mark welcomes them on the front door half an hour later, Haerin grinning up at him and Jongin smiling sheepishly. They change into slippers, and Mark notes that Haerin is wearing Minseok's guest ones. They're too big on her.

Jongin brings them more cookies, neatly stacked inside a tupperware and gives them to Minseok.

"My brother stress-bakes sometimes."

Mark's mouth drops. "That's _exactly_ like Baekhyun-hyung. Are all doctors just like that?"

Mark and Jongin sit themselves around the table, while Haerin goes to look at what Minseok is doing. Minseok lets Haerin choose her own bowl and mug, and she balances them carefully in her hands, setting them neatly on her spot next to Jongin.

Minseok makes chicken and stir-fried beansprouts and tofu, and the most delicious kimchi jjigae in the world. Small talk flows easily between Minseok and Jongin. Mostly about Jongin's brother.

"I think you can call me hyung, now, Jongin-ah." Minseok says.

"Are you older than I am?"

"I'm thirty-three" he chuckles. "Mark told me you were twenty-nine?"

Jongin nods. "And Baekhyun-ssi?"

"Thirty-one, we're both your hyungs, then." 

"So it seems."

"Haerinnie, do you not like beansprouts?" Mark asks. He's been keeping an eye on her, sometimes answering her questions. It's the only food she hasn't touched all night. And Minseok's beansprout is _delicious_.

Haerin shakes her head.

"Forgive me, Haerinnie," Minseok says. "Do you like kimchi? I'll make some that's not spicy for you."

Jongin is quick to refuse him. "Oh, you don't have to hyung--"

Minseok puts his palm up and Jongin quiets down.

"I want to," he smiles, the one that he uses on corporate execs and Mark's more stubborn professors. "Besides, whatever to get Haerin to eat her veggies."

-

Dinner passes by amicably, and by the end of it, Mark knows Minseok has successfully dubbed Jongin into his little cult of good neighbors.

"Minseok-hyung is very caring, isn't he?" Jongin comments.

"Yeah," Mark agrees, drying another plate and putting it on the rack. They're tag-teaming the dirty dishes, while Minseok and Haerin watch Haerin's favorite show on TV. "If that's something you're uncomfortable with, I'll tell Minseok-hyung."

Jongin shakes his head, smiling, and hands Mark another wet plate. "I'm very grateful, actually. Haerin has been eating nothing but my subpar cooking and takeouts this week. I think she misses my mother's cooking."

"Oh," Mark slides the towel over the concave surface of the plate, patting on it to make sure he gets all the water out. "Hyung, you and Haerinnie can eat dinner with us every day, you know? Minseok-hyung won't mind two more people. He likes cooking."

"No, no," Jongin balks. "I can't intrude any more on your kindness. You guys are already doing so much."

"Don't be silly," Mark says. "Of course you can. Don't worry, I help with the cooking. It's just dinner, you know?"

"Still, I feel bad. Me and Haerin are fine. Thank you for the offer."

Mark wrings his hand, looks for a paper towel to dry them. "Yeah, well," he says, watching Minseok explain something to Haerin. Mark never knew Minseok liked kids. He supposes it's natural. With Baekhyun's pediatric residency. "Tell me if you change your mind. The offer still stands."

-

The school year starts again, with it comes a slew of reading assignments and classes that Mark definitely should not have on his third year in. It comes with failing a couple of classes on his first semester, he supposes.

"Don't look so sad, Mark," Donghyuck says. He holds out Mark's gimbap to him. Mark takes it and sits down on the bench.

The afternoon sun heated up the wood of it. Mark looks at his lesson plan on his phone, sighing, bites into his egg and cheese gimbap. "At least I have you."

Donghyuck bumps his shoulder against Mark's, staring absently at the soccer club practicing. Donghyuck has a crush on one of the tall ones. An American grad student. He unwraps his own gimbap, biting into it too. They eat in comfortable silence, warm under the afternoon sun. A moment of reprieve in Mark's life between the short semester he's had to take and his next semester.

"Don't worry, Mark," Donghyuck says, balling the wrapper in his hands. "You got me."

-

Mark's classes are mostly in the morning. His logic is, when he argues with Donghyuck, that they'd get more time to nap and hang in the afternoon. He drags Donghyuck into half of his morning classes with him. Because he needs the company, and because he'd rather be caught dead than not be in at least three classes with Donghyuck.

The downside is, of course, waking up at ass hour in the morning to get ready. But Minseok approves of his choice and before he got a car, he used to pool with Minseok and Baekhyun. It's just convenient.

Another upside is he always catches Jongin and Haerin going out. They share a nod and walk to the elevator together. Haerin never fails to sport an elaborate hairdo, and Mark always tells her it looks good. They share the elevator ride down to the basement, where Jongin and Mark have their cars parked. More often than not, they drive out together.

Another routine to add to Mark's ever growing schedule. It's nice. It's good, his therapist would say. Routine is good.

-

Mark's ringtone is the wii music. Donghyuck changed it years ago as a joke and he never really bothered changing it back. He thinks it's hilarious, and well, no one else had the wii music as their ringtone. It's especially convenient in crowds.

It rings noisily right now, buzzing on top of the coffee table. Where empty cans of soda and empty potato chips bags are strewn around.

Mark grabs it absentmindedly, eyes glued to the screen, and accepts the call. Shoves the phone between his cheek and shoulder.

"Hello?" 

_"Mark?"_ Jongin says. _"I'm really sorry for bothering you, but do you think you could you watch Haerin for a while? I have to go to my office real quick, there has been an emergency."_

Mark pauses. So does his character in the game. Donghyuck curses next to him. Mark lets his character die, meets Donghyuck's huffing with a helpless shrug. 

"Minseok-hyung isn't around?" He holds the phone properly this time, and pauses the game properly. Donghyuck sighs beside him, Mark pays him no mind.

_"They're not home."_

Right. Saturdays are date days. Mark looks at Donghyuck, who raises an eyebrow. He has no idea how to take care of a five-year old.

He flails his hands. Donghyuck furrows his brows, shrugs. Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark holds the phone away from his face and sighs. He's going to regret this decision. "Sure hyung, just drop her off whenever." 

Jongin's sigh of relief is audible through the phone. Mark feels bad for even thinking of refusing him.

_"Just a couple of hours, thank you, Mark."_

-

Five minutes later, his doorbell is ringing, and a slightly panicked looking Jongin shows up on Mark's door holding Haerin's hand, a doll of a bunny hugged closed to her chest. It's kind of obvious that he'd put on his work clothes in a rush. His collar is unbuttoned, tie undone.

Mark steps forward on instinct, pushes the button through the hole and ties Jongin's tie neatly. It takes all of half a minute, but Jongin is looking at him like he'd grown a second head when he's done. Mark blushes, realizes the boldness of his actions.

Even Haerin is staring at him.

"Sup, Haerin," Mark greets her, crouching down to meet her eyes and offering her his fist to bump, trying his damndest to fight down the blush on his cheeks.

"You have a guest?" Jongin asks, eyeing Donghyuck's shoes.

"It's just Donghyuck, don't worry, we were doing nothing."

Haerin returns his fistbump quietly. Mark's going to teach her a proper handshake one of these days.

"I'm really sorry," Jongin apologizes again.

"It's okay, I like hanging out with Haerin." Mark grins. "Should we say goodbye to dad, Haerin-ah?"

Jongin crouches, too, and pulls Haerin into his arms.

"Will you be okay with Mark-oppa?" Jongin asks, stroking her hair.

Haerin nods, gives Jongin a gummy smile. "I'll be fine, daddy. I'm a big girl."

"Daddy will be back soon, I promise." Jongin says, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead. He gets up and nods at Mark, before turning around.

The both of them watch Jongin hurriedly go out of Mark's door, Haerin's hand in Mark's.

-

It's surprisingly easy to take care of Haerin. She stays quiet through her stay. Sandwiched between Donghyuck and Mark on the couch, Bunny (which Mark had learned, is the name of the bunny doll), sitting neatly on her side. They laze, leaning against the backrest with consoles in their hands. Mark and Donghyuck are playing an RPG game on Mark's X-Box. Haerin mimics their pose, ooh and aahing at every scene, like she's watching some kind of action movie. She waggles her feet from time to time, inspecting the new pink slippers that Mark got especially for her.

"Mark, you're going to fall, you're going to--oh hell," Donghyuck curses, not even bothering to lift his head up.

"Hyuck," Mark scolds half-heartedly, reaching over Haerin's head to punch Donghyuck in the arm. "No cursing in front of the baby."

"No cursing in front of the baby," Haerin repeats softly between them. The popcorn bowl is in her lap, and she's been steadily munching on it for the past fifteen minutes. Mark wonders if that's going to ruin her appetite later. Jongin will rain hell on him.

"Oops. Sorry, Haerinnie, that was a bad word. Don't say it, okay?"

Haerin nods, and points at Donghyuck's screen. "Oppa, you're going to fall."

Donghyuck curses up a storm, and Mark laughs loudly.

-

By the time Jongin rings on his doorbell again, Donghyuck and Mark are busy teaching Haerin a proper handshake. It ends up as a sort of paddy-cake thing. Complete with a twirl and some punches.

Jongin scoops Haerin up into his arms the moment he sees her, kissing her cheek repeatedly. Haerin protests loudly.

" _Dad_ , you're embarassing me."

"Daddy missed you, princess." Jongin said, putting her down.

"I missed you, too. But Mark-oppa and Hyuck-oppa were with me so it wasn't too bad."

"Yeah? Was it fun?" Jongin grins.

"Yeah! They taught me a handshake."

Haerin demands she does the handshake with both of her oppas, and both of them complies. Then they're gone in a whirlwind of thank yous and giggles, Jongin promising Mark he'll make up for it some other time.

"It's alright, hyung," Mark waves him off. "Honestly, I liked having her around. You guys should drop by more often."

Jongin smiles at him, and thanks him again. "If you're sure."

Somehow Mark finds that he is.

-

Classes also pass by in a whirlwind. Third week in and Mark is ready to keel over. He has three papers to turn in by the end of next week, and that's not counting _studio._ Jongin sees him leaning against his door one Saturday morning after he holds an all-nighter at Hyuck's, trying to put his keycard in with his eyes closed.

He promptly invites Mark over.

Mark sags in Jongin's dining chair, eyes heavy with sleepiness, staring absently at a point in Jongin's beige kitchen cabinet door. Everything is beige or cream-colored in Jongin's house. Minseok's living room is a light green, made to make the Sunflower replica on his wall stand out. Mark's walls are a deep navy blue. Has been since he moved in. Every time he sees the color he thinks about how his mother would hate it.

He wants to change it, he does. He just never got the time.

Jongin stares amusedly at Mark, chin cradled in one hand. It drags Mark's thoughts away from colors and enclosed spaces. Mark sends him a sleepy smile on his own, and Jongin chuckles.

"Rough night?"

Mark nods. "Group project, you know how it is." 

"I do."

Mark snickers. There's no inside joke between them yet, but he feels like laughing. It's the lack of sleep probably. He tries to imagine Jongin, with his soft sweaters and shirts, never a stray hair on his head, tumbling along college assignment and all-nighters and fails to do so.

Jongin gets up to turn off the stove, pouring hot water into two mugs. Mark looks around, peeks a little at the cream-colored living room, absently scratching at his neck. There are no more boxes left. Everything unpacked and stored where they should be.

"Where's Haerinnie, hyung?"

Jongin turns, sets down a mug on a coaster in front of Mark. The liquid in it so black it might be coffee. He puts a small jug of milk and sugar cubes between them.

Mark puts two in his, and pours half the amount of milk along with it.

"With her cousins, they're having a playdate."

Mark hums, takes a sip of his tea. It's nice and sweet, and the sugar and milk cancels out the bitterness of the tea. It calms his frayed nerves a little.

"How are you settling in?"

"We've been fine," Jongin says. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair, not even messing it up after. It's casually attractive, Mark resents it. "Could use a daycare though." Jongin continues. "I thought there would be one in the apartment complex but there's none."

"Daycare?"

"Well." Jongin picks a loose thread from his sweater. "Haerin's school is done by one and nobody's around to pick her up, so..." Jongin trails off, waving his hand around.

"Wait, Haerin's school is done by one?" Mark frowns. Remembers seeing Jongin and Haerin home at eight, the earliest. "But you guys are always home so late."

"Yeah, it's because my brother's wife picks her up," Jongin explains. "I drop her off at school in the morning, and my brother's wife picks her up from her school, then she stays there until I pick her up again."

"Oh," Mark responds, choosing his words carefully. "That sounds.. tiring?"

Jongin runs a hand through his hair again. Like he knows what effect it has on Mark's already fragile self-control. "It is. My brother's house is an hour drive away when there's no traffic. My work is done at five, so it takes me an hour to there, and an hour to get back. She just falls asleep once she gets home."

Mark nods. Pauses. But the words are out before he can stop himself.

"I can babysit for you if you want?"

In hindsight, Mark should really learn to keep his mouth shut when he's running on two hours of sleep and half a gallon of coffee. If he takes it back further, he shouldn't have said hello at all, should have just nodded politely and closed his door. But Jongin's face lights up at his words, breaks open to the most beautiful smile _yet_. And Mark decides he'd rather die, honestly, than disappoint Jongin.

"Are you sure?" Jongin asks. His words are hesitant, but his tone is hopeful. Eager.

"Yeah," Mark answers, "of course, hyung. Anything for you." He cringes as soon as it comes out of his mouth. A little bit _too_ desperate.

"Thank you, Mark. I really appreciate it." He reaches over the table and takes Mark's hand between his. Mark's thoughts all come to a screeching halt. He blames the warmth in his stomach to the tea, and not at the fact that Jongin is holding his hand.

"No big deal, hyung. Just let me know when you're gonna drop her off."

Agreeing to babysit his neighbor's 6-year-old probably is not a good thing to do when your preliminary design defense is 2 weeks away, but Jongin smiles at him, soft around the corners and just the right amount of grateful, and Mark can't find it in him to regret his decision.

-

Mark starts the very next Monday, going as far as to going with Jongin and Haerin in the morning to her kindergarten, so the teacher knows who he is.

"Mina-seonsangnim, this is Mark, Haerin's babysitter, he'll be picking her up from now on."

Jongin presses a keycard in Mark's hand when they part, to his apartment, and the thought that he'd be responsible for a kid _and_ Jongin's place for five hours a day makes Mark feel kinda dizzy. Haerin hadn't said a word about Mark hightailing their car and coming out with them to meet her teacher. Unfazed when Jongin brought it up to her, and despite Jongin's reassurances that Haerin likes him already, Mark still feels uneasy by the time he pulls up in front of Haerin's school at 1pm.

He spent the previous day and a half researching about kids and babysitting and what to expect despite Jongin saying that Haerin is easy to take care of. Mark waits outside of class with the other mothers, feels hopelessly out of place in the middle of judging eyes.

But then Haerin walks out, purple backpack too big for her small shoulders, and looks up at Mark with the biggest grin on her face, bounding over to him and hugging him, squealing a bright "Oppa!" and Mark forgets about their cold eyes.

-

The gig isn't so bad. The gig turns out to be pretty great. It helps that he gets paid for this, too. It never hurts to have some extra cash in his bank account.

He picks up Haerin at 1pm. They go home. Haerin gets half an hour of TV time before she does her homework (which really, what kind of school gives six-year-olds homework, Mark helps her. Helps her a lot). Next Mark gets her snacks. Then they play. Haerin especially enjoys being a princess-general after Mark lets her watch Star Wars. Or if Haerin is feeling like it they'll head to the park. Where Mark gets cozy and gossip with the moms and other babysitters while watching her play with their kids.

They head home, afterwards. Haerin showers, and plays some more while Mark does some schoolwork, waiting for Minseok and Jongin to be done with their workout. They get started on dinner, afterwards. Sometimes Baekhyun joins in, when he doesn't have any night shifts.

Sometimes Jongin cooks, sometimes Minseok does. Mark and Haerin helps, or tries to. With Minseok, he just ends up getting kicked out of the kitchen and with Jongin, he just gives Mark an amused smile every time he fucks up.

Haerin never fusses, never cries, never asks for her dad. Just smiles a gummy smile and asks Mark thousands of questions that sometimes Mark don’t know the answer to and asks when Mark is going to take her swimming.

If Mark was endeared before, he’s enamored now.

He gets used to Haerin's constant chatter. Gets used to Jongin's patient responses, Jongin's grateful smiles at the end of days when Mark is inevitably the last person to leave his place, always wanting to say goodnight to Haerin properly.

"Thank you," Jongin whispers. His gratefulness is neverending. It never fails to please Mark, something akin to fondness and too close to attraction blooming under his skin. Mark watches his words, because it's dangerous, this pull Jongin has on him since day one.

"Of course, hyung." Mark grins. "Don't mention it."

-

"You actually like babysitting, don't you?"

Mark watches Haerin talking with a boy, trying to decide who's going to be it first with gai-bai-bo.

"Yep."

"You really like that kid, huh."

"Yep."

"And the dad, too."

Mark whips his head around to level Donghyuck with his best withering stare. Donghyuck just shrugs in return.

"I'm not wrong."

Mark punches him in the shoulder, and Donghyuck yelps. Loud enough for Haerin to look at them and wave. Mark waves back, smiling.

"That's so cute." Donghyuck coos.

"I swear to god, Donghyuck, if you don't shut the fuck up," Mark threatens, bringing his fists up again.

Donghyuck whines, grabs Mark's wrists before they can descend on him and it's just a battle of pushing and pulling from then on. Mark trying to knee Donghyuck on the stomach and failing.

"Oppa!"

Haerin's voice startles them, Mark looks down to find her with her hands cocked on her hips, thunderous frown on her face.

"Um," Mark starts awkwardly, a hand covering Donghyuck's face. "Yes?"

"Stop fighting," she intones. "You said it's bad to fight with your friends."

"Um. We're not fighting? We're playing?" Mark releases Donghyuck from his hold. Donghyuck chokes and sputters in exaggeration, flopping sideways on the bench.

"Haerinnie, Mark started it!" He yells, pointing an accusing finger at Mark.

Haerin raises an eyebrow at Mark. The expression is eerily similar to Minseok's judging stare of doom.

"Wait--I didn't--I swear--Donghyuck you little--"

"Oppa," Haerin scolds, "you have apologize to Hyuckie-oppa now."

"But I didn't--"

"Now, oppa."

Mark gapes at the turn of events. But he sighs, turns to Donghyuck who's grinning way too smugly for Mark's comfort. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

And because Donghyuck is a little shit, he says, "what was that?"

Mark refrains the ever present need to punch his best friend. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

Haerin nods. She makes a noise of satisfaction. "I'm going to play again, now. Don't get into another fight okay oppa!"

They both watch Haerin run back to her friend quietly, until Donghyucks sighs.

"You're so fucking whipped."

Mark punches him on the shoulder again. Harder this time.

"If you'd kindly shut the fuck up," he mutters, "that would be great."

-

"I know I keep teasing you about the DILF situation," Donghyuck says as he readjusts the sleeping Haerin on his back, hiking her up so she doesn't fall. "But they're really good for you."

Mark pauses before answering with a question of his own. "What do you mean?"

"You're smiling more, you shithead," Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "This little girl is magic." Donghyuck shrugs, the action jostling Haerin.

Mark hisses, doesn't want to wake her so soon and so suddenly.

Donghyuck laughs obnoxiously. "See."

Mark kicks at invisible stones on the pavement. He tries to find a reason to refute Donghyuck, to tell him that he's wrong. But he finds none. "I guess."

"You guess," Donghyuck snorts. "That's fine. I don't guess. I _know._ "

-

A Thursday comes where the clouds come out enough for it to be cool. It's a nice day to be out, too nice to spend it inside. Mark has to beg Haerin to go out, promising her ice cream. Mark has a thousand different ideas running through his head about where they should go, but they end up sitting side by side on a park bench with an ice cream in each of their hands, Haerin swinging her feet beneath her. Just enjoying the nice weather outside.

"Oppa," Haerin says through a mouthful of mango flavored ice.

"Yes, aegi?"

Mark fishes out a wet napkin from his bag and dabs the corner of Haerin's mouth.

"I don't have a mom anymore."

Mark pauses, hands retracting slowly. "Yeah?" 

Haerin nods. "She went to heaven when I was four."

Mark lowers his hand, balls the used napkin in his fist. Takes a breath. He doesn't know how to breach this subject. "That's alright, Haerin-ah. I don't have a mom either."

She turns to look at him, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Do you miss her oppa?"

"Sometimes," Mark answers, fiddles with his necklace. "But not every day. Do you miss yours?"

"Sometimes," Haerin parrots. "But there's dad and grandma and Dae-uncle and Jenjen and Doyoungie and you, so I don't miss her too much anymore."

Mark's chest tightens. In that moment he realizes how much he loves this kid. The one who seems intent on bringing sunshine into Mark's grey-tinted life. "That's--I'm glad, Haerinnie."

"But sometimes I miss her a lot," she murmurs, "dad misses her a lot."

"That's okay, Haerinnie," Mark says, he wraps an arm around her tiny shoulders, pulling her close. There's mango juice running down her hand, Mark's gonna be sticky but he doesn't care. "Missing her means she never really goes away. She'll stay in our hearts and our minds forever." The words are corny, but it feels right to say them. Especially now.

Haerin just nods, nibbling on her ice cream quietly.

"Tell you what," Mark says, not wanting the somber mood to stay, "we'll get cheese sandwiches for dinner today. Would you like that?"

Haerin beams at him, mouth agape. "Really?"

"Yeah." Mark nods. "I'll ask your dad, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Yay!" Haerin squeals, shaking her ice cream excitedly. Drops of it splatter down her arm and shirt, and Mark has to calm her down so she doesn't make a mess.

"Haerin-ah, stop!" Mark laughs.

Haerin stays still as she finishes her ice cream, and as Mark wipes her arm for her, even if she looks like she's vibrating in her seat. She throws herself at Mark, afterwards, tiny arms enveloping Mark's middle in the warmest hug he's ever had. Or maybe it's just the September air. Or maybe it's just Haerin.

"I love you, oppa," she exclaims. "You're the best."

Mark rests a hand on her back, emotions trying to claw up his chest. His mom would like Haerin a lot. He wonders if that's why he's so taken with her, because he sees a kindred spirit in her. Just two motherless kids trying to survive.

No, Mark thinks, Haerin's different. _Jongin_ is her dad. And that makes a whole world of difference.

"I love you too, Haerinnie," Mark says, patting her head gently, "I love you too."

-

"What are you doing, Friday night?"

Mark looks up from his sketch. Distracted momentarily by Haerin almost coloring outside of her paper. He pushes her A3 paper to fit properly under her crayon.

"Nothing, hyung, what's up?"

Jongin is home early. Mark would go home, but he's set up camp in Jongin's living room floor. Opened and plugged up his massive computer and rolled out his sketches on the coffee table. And he's too lazy to go anywhere. Jongin doesn't seem to mind, melting into his fluffy couch, pulling on his tie. Mark finds himself staring at Jongin's long fingers playing with the knot.

"Me and Haerin are going to eat out." He says, ruffling his hair from its usual stiff coif. "You should come with."

The ends of his tie rests again his chest, top two of his button undone. Mark itches to pull him down with it, pulls him close just to take a taste and a whiff of his scent.

Mark blinks the image away. "Just the three of us?"

Jongin nods. "Just the three of us."

"I mean... I don't want to intrude...?"

Jongin frowns and shakes his head. "You're not intruding, Mark Lee. We want you to go out with us, right, Haerinnie?"

Haerin snaps into the moment, grinning and nodding along. "Please, oppa?"

Mark doesn't hate how he's so weak to everything the two of them ask of him. He has no resolve, nodding.

"Alright." He grins. "Since Haerin asked."

-

Baekhyun added Jongin to the group chat, and didn't even bother to rename it. Jongin rolls with it surprisingly well. Snickering when he sees the name of the groupchat.

Thu, 19/09/20

20:08

Jongin: _hyung-deul, me and Haerin and Mark are going out on tomorrow evening. don't wait up._

_Byun Baekhyun is typing..._

Baekhyun: _taking our kid out alrd jongin tsk_

Baekhyun: _as a parent to one mark lee i am offended_

Mark: .

Mark: _ur not my dad????_

Mark: _minseok is?? ur more like a fun drunk uncle_

Minseok: _Have fun! We'll leave some brownies for you, Baekhyun will be baking :)_

_Byun Baekhyun is typing..._

Mark: _tq hyung pls tell baekhyun-hyung to stop typing_

Minseok: _Haha :) No_

Mark: .

Mark: _hate speech_

Mark: _goodbye_

_Byun Baekhyun is typing..._

20:32

Minseok: _Mark just went to tackle Baekhyunee to the floor, Jongin-ah._

_Kim Jongin is typing..._

Jongin: _that's a sight i'd like to see_

-

"Min," Baekhyun says, drapes himself across the couch dramatically, to emphasize a _point_. "Maybe _we_ should get a baby."

"You're already the baby in this family, Byun," Minseok mutters.

Baekhyun pouts, frowning. "Just because I have a daddy kink--"

"Stop!" Mark yells, cupping his palms over his ears. "No kink talk on the dining table!"

"I'm not on the table though," Baekhyun points out. "And we don't kinkshame in this household."

"Hyung," Mark whines, buries his face on the table. "Make him stop!"

"Baekhyun," Minseok chides gently, "no R-rated talk in front of the _real_ baby."

"Oh," Mark huffs, "that's not fair, shut up. I'm an _adult_. I just do not need to know about my parents' sex life."

"I think you calling us your parents is telling enough that you're still just a baby inside, Mark," Baekhyun says. "The baby wants to baby another baby, what a sight."

-

There are butterflies in his stomach come Friday night. It's silly. He has nothing to worry about. He's spent enough time with Jongin to not be awkward with him. But the butterflies doesn't go away even when he knocks on Jongin's door, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

Jongin looks... good. He always looks good. A black turtleneck and a pair of jeans. He looks cozy, simple and comfortable. His necklace ever present, hanging from his neck. Delicate and dainty against Jongin's wide chest.

"Mark-ya." Jongin smiles at him, blinding white teeth and endearing lines on the corners of his eyes.

Mark stutters out his hellos, feels suddenly underdressed and overdressed at the same time in his shirt and bomber.

"Oppa!" Haerin pops up from under Jongin's arm just in time. Saving Mark from any nervous attempts at conversations.

Mark takes his time to properly coo over her dress and her matching hairpiece, glad for Haerin's presence as a buffer between them.

Jongin takes them to a western restaurant uptown, Mark riding on the front seat and Haerin at the back. Haerin takes up most of their attention, chattering on about her friends, but Jongin doesn't fail to ask Mark how he is, how his classes are going.

The restaurant is nice. _Really_ nice. One of those that families go for weekend lunches and brunches. It's full of families even now. Little children running around in nice clothes, teenagers busy ignoring their parents. Tables of four, of twelve. It's lively there, and Mark can't help but feel slightly out of place.

But then Haerin takes his hand, yelling a loud "Here oppa!" and drags him bodily to an empty table and some of Mark's uneasiness dissipates.

The general state of slight chaos seems to get to Haerin. She fidgets in her seat next to Jongin, eyes darting around at the other kids who are squealing and running around, chased by their respective nannies or moms. Jongin suppresses a smile, but nods when she looks up at him expectantly. She gets off her chair and goes to a corner that has books and toys, Jongin watching her intently.

"She's not giving you too much trouble, I hope?"

"Not at all, hyung," Mark answers. "She's a great kid."

Jongin grins at him. "She is, huh?"

"She asked me the other day which one comes first, chickens or eggs."

"We're at that stage already? What did you say?"

"I told her to ask you." Mark can't help grinning back at Jongin. "Figured you'd want to answer all the philosophical questions in her life." 

Jongin groans, covering his face with both hands. "Leaving all the hard work to me, that's dirty, Mark Lee."

Mark can't help the breathless chuckle, or the way his face warms. He scratches his head, draws Jongin's eyes to the movement.

Mark clears his throat, averts his gaze. Suddenly feeling shy. "Well. I'll handle the capitalism talk, then," he replies quietly.

Jongin looks like he's about to reply with something smart, a smirk ready in place, but their food comes right then. Jongin calls for Haerin, who comes back to the table but would not sit down. Apparently she's made a friend, and would not leave him alone for a second because he has _three t-rexes_ , _dad!_

"But you gotta eat, baby," Jongin pleads. "Come sit next to daddy."

Haerin looks between her dad and the boy going around with his dinosaur figurine indecisively. Mark shrugs, wonders himself what he was thinking then but he pulls Haerin and plops her on his lap.

"Come eat, aegi. I'll cut up your chicken for you." Mark pulls Haerin's plate nearer to him. Grabbing his knife and fork and starts cutting up the chicken cutlet Jongin ordered for Haerin.

Haerin stop squirming after a while, watching Mark work.

"Oppa, cut it up like a triangle!"

Mark nods. The feathery bits of Haerin's hairpin tickles his nose a little. He scrunches his nose. "I can do that."

Haerin makes zinging sounds all through Mark cutting up her food. When he's done, he asks her to sit on her own next to him and she complies, chatting happily while stabbing through pieces of chicken.

He makes sure she's doing good on her own before going back to his own food, only noticing now how quiet Jongin has become. He looks up, and finds Jongin watching him.

"Haerinnie," Jongin says softly, eyes still fixed on Mark, "don't forget to thank Mark-oppa for helping you."

"Thank you, oppa," Haerin says distractedly.

"Thank you," Jongin says, "Mark."

Mark nods, face warm. 

It's not a date, but Mark can't help but feel like it's something special. Especially with them holding each of Haerin's hands when they go back to Jongin's car. Can't help but feel like he's part of a _family._

_Especially_ when Jongin keeps taking glances at him when he's supposed to be driving, eyes soft and yielding and full of things Mark can't even hope to decipher. Especially then, Mark can't help but _want._

He realizes with a sinking feeling, as he stares out the window, Haerin's constant chattering from the backseat filling his ears, that his simple form of adoration towards Jongin, might have evolved into a full blown crush.

-

Realizing Mark _might_ have a slight crush for his hot neighbor dad doesn't impact Mark the way he thinks it would. Oh no, it impacted him _much_ worse. Like any sane 22-year-old facing their problems, Mark gets spectacularly drunk with his best friend.

The alcohol in his system doesn't make him feel better at all, in fact it makes him miserable. He misses Jongin. He misses Minseok and Baekhyun. He misses Haerin. Even that 7-year-old kid that's taken a liking to Haerin and sticks to her when they go to the park.

"I miss Minseok-hyung," Mark says, sniffling into Donghyuck's shoulder. The heavy bass of the club doesn't help with his misery.

He pushes off from Donghyuck and fishes out his phone, thumb missing its mark by about five times until he can finally order an uber.

"I'm going home," he yells into Donghyuck's ear. Donghyuck winces and shoves him off.

"Yeah alright," he yells back. "Be safe! Text me when you get home."

Mark thinks he says something in return. He's not sure, stumbling out of the club and into the weird-smelling car he'd ordered. By the time Mark reaches his building, he's not at all sober, and he takes wobbling steps inside of it.

He stumbles out of the elevator, and all the way to his door. Mark leans onto it, the world tipping off balance. He reaches for the knob and turns it, only to find it locked. Someone has locked his door. Who locked his door.

"Mark?"

Mark opens his eyes--when did he close them--and looks straight into Jongin's concerned ones. Mark grins. Jongin is here. Jongin looks _good._ Jongin looks _so_ good.

"Hyung!" He chirps, taking a wobbling step towards Jongin.

Of course, he trips and falls, but he falls right into Jongin's ready arms. He sags against Jongin. Jongin is so warm. So sturdy and tall. So reliable. Mark pats his chest. That's a really nice chest. He closes his eyes and inhales. Jongin smells so _good._

"You're so hot, hyung." Mark mumbles. Mark's mouth is numb and loose. The words are formed with difficulty. His tongue is heavy but working all the same.

"Yeah?"

"You smell so good." Mark sighs, burying his face further to the soft material of Jongin's shirt. He had looked so _cozy._

"Uhuh."

"So hot." Mark hums. He leans into Jongin's embrace. Loops his hands around Jongin's neck and nuzzles at his nice, nice pecs. "Mm. DILF."

"Sorry?"

"DILF. You know? Dad I love to--"

"O-kay, Mark, I think you need to lie down. Where's your card?"

Mark hums again, flailing his hand about. "Back pocket."

Jongin reaches around for his keys, Mark makes squeaky noises that he can't really help. Feeling Jongin's hands on his ass. He fumbles for a moment before he pulls something out of Mark's pocket and Mark whines because he's pulling away. Him and his nice pecs.

Jongin slings Mark's arm around his shoulder and gathers him by the waist, and Mark pouts and whines some more because _this_ isn't as nice as _before_.

Jongin gets Mark inside his house, somehow, and makes Mark pull off his shoes and socks, padding barefoot inside, which is an abomination because Mark bought Jongin a _special_ pair of slippers.

Mark tries to convey that to Jongin, but what comes out is a string of intelligible noises. Apparently his mouth has finally chosen to be uncooperative.

Before he knows it, Mark is laid down in the bed, staring dazedly up the ceiling. He should put glowy things up there. Like the star stickers his mom had gotten him when he was little.

Jongin is busy removing Mark's pants to notice the sad state of his ceiling, tugging them down his hips. Mark has to change that.

"Hyung," Mark calls. Jongin freezes, a hand still on the waistband of Mark's jeans.

He looks kind of scared. Is he scared of glowy stickers?

"Yes?"

"You should get glowy stickers for Haerin's room."

"Oh." Jongin nods. "Okay."

Jongin tucks Mark in like a potato once he gets all of Mark's pesky hard clothing off. Literally tugging the edges of his blanket underneath him.

"I'm a baby," Mark slurs. Giggles. Warmly cocooned inside the blanket. "'m a baby."

"Sure, Mark." Jongin eyes him, smiles at him.

"Jongin," Mark says. He needs to tell him. Needs to tell him right now. "Jongin." He calls out again.

Jongin hums in answer and raises his eyebrow at Mark. "What?"

"You're a good dad." Mark says with his serious voice. Jongin needs to know this. Seriously. He needs to know. "You're a goo' dad, Jongin." He slurs. Then giggles. Because he sounded funny.

"You think so?"

Mark starts nodding, but the movement makes his eyes shake, so he stops. Closes them instead.

Mark curls up to his side, effectively undoing all of Jongin's neat work and angles his body at Jongin, curling a fist out for Jongin to touch.

"Sleepy?"

Mark nods, but Jongin still hasn't touched his hand, so Mark shakes it stubbornly. Making noises with his mouth.

"Alright." Jongin holds his hand, finally. Puts it on top of Mark's. Mark sighs contently.

"G'night hyung, I love you."

Jongin squeezes Mark's hand. "Goodnight, Mark. Sleep tight."

-

The next morning brings death and toil to Mark's head, but at least there's water and a couple of tylenols on his bedside table. Mark drinks them all greedily. Falling back to his pillows with a small groan at the pounding in his head. He reaches around for his phone, and finds it again on the bedside table. Mark squints at his notifications.

Donghyuck. Donghyuck. Minseok in the groupchat. Baekhyun. Jongin.

_Jongin_.

Mark bolts upright, curses at the amplifying ache in his head, and then curses for an entirely different reason.

Blood drains on his face when memories of last night floods back to him.

Mark puts his head between his hands, lets his phone fall to the comforter. He told Jongin he _loved_ him. Mortification dawns on him, along with the incoming headache and nausea.

God, he's never going to be able to face Jongin again.

-

"And then you did _what?_ " Baekhyun presses, frowning into his cupcake batter.

"And then I told him I loved him and fell asleep." Mark winces, turns off the whisk. "I know, I know."

"No, no, this is..." Baekhyun trails off. "Something. Huh. Hand me the chocolate chips, demon child."

Mark gives Baekhyun the bag of white chocolate chips. Baekhyun pours them into a measuring cup and dumps them into the batter. He folds them gently, spreads out the pieces so they're evenly distributed while Mark peers over his shoulder.

"You have a crush on him," Baekhyun states, handing Mark a spoon. He makes room for Mark on the kitchen counter, pulls the lined cupcake tin closer to them. They spoon the batter side by side, Mark flattening the top on each of his carefully.

"I do," Mark says, scoops another spoonful of batter. "And like, I hate it because, you know."

"Because...?" 

"Well he has a kid, hyung. That's a big thing, you know."

Baekhyun nods. "It is."

"He wouldn't want to be with a kid like me. It's not--I can't _experiment_ , with him. But he's just--" Mark trails off, throwing his dirty spoon into the sink. It clanks noisily against the mixer. Mark sighs.

Baekhyun stays silent, sliding the cupcakes inside the oven, and goes back to the butter he's creaming. It's for the tiramisu donut Baekhyun is going to fry first thing tomorrow morning. They're going to wake up at 5 am so they can fry them fresh and still make it to the 9 am bake sale.

He takes a short break, leaning against the counter as Mark measures out flour for the pies.

"You know how I got together with Minseok, right?" Baekhyun asks. "Twenty four and fresh outta med school, I knew him a month and knew I wanted to be with him forever." Baekhyun chuckles.

"I'm aware of the story," Mark mutters.

"Sometimes you meet the love of your life and you just know." Baekhyun shrugs. "Sometimes you get crushes and it goes away."

Baekhyun pulls out cut pieces of butter from the fridge, brings out his trusted wooden board to knead the pie dough on. It's Mark's turn to take a short break, lingering as Baekhyun dumps the flour on the board.

"Don't worry, Minhyung-a," he says, encouraging, slinging a dusty arm around Mark's shoulder. "You don't have to act on the crush. You'll figure it out. You always do."

Mark crosses his arms as he watches Baekhyun's deft fingers work. "I sure hope I do."

-

Mark stifles another yawn with his hand. Being up since the wee hours in the morning to help Baekhyun with his donuts was not a good idea. He shakes the fly swatter once again. The sweltering heat of the sun reflects against the concrete pavement, and the tarpal of the tent only makes everything hotter. The tied rope of the apron rests uncomfortably behind his neck. Mark reaches up to scratch the skin underneath the knot.

Baekhyun has been AWOL for a whole ten minutes, saying that he's going to look for cold drinks for them. What a bunch of bullshit, Mark fumes silently. Minseok is probably here and they're probably making out inside a cool, air-conditioned room inside the hospital.

Only Jongin shows up five minutes later, Haerin at his side and Mark's mouth goes dry. There should be a rule against Jongin wearing jeans because god _damn._ Mark panics for a second because hello, drunken confessions. But it goes out the moment Jongin smiles at him, lazily swinging Haerin's hand in his.

"Hey, wow," Jongin gestures at the baked goods in front of Mark. "Baekhyun-hyung does not mess around."

"No he doesn't." Mark confirms. "He has a competitive streak."

"I'm impressed." Jongin chuckles.

"You should taste it." Mark grins. "And then you'll be more impressed."

Jongin laughs, nice and pleasant. "You drive a good bargain." Jongin fishes out his wallet. "I'll take a slice of pie and a donut."

Mark bags all of the pastries, but hands Haerin a cupcake. "On the house." He winks. "For my favorite princess-general." 

Haerin beams. "Thank you, oppa."

Baekhyun decides to show up then, suddenly slinking in from behind the tent, checking Mark with his hip. "Scoot."

Minseok approaches the stand suspiciously a minute later, handing Mark a cup of something orange and fizzy, his hair in slight disarray. He grins sheepishly at Mark when Mark gives him an unimpressed look.

"Sorry," he says. "Got lost looking for drinks."

"Sure." Mark deadpans. "You looked too far down Baekhyun-hyung's throat." He mumbles.

It's only loud enough for Baekhyun and Minseok to hear. The latter has the decency to turn red while Baekhyun just laughs.

"Don't be such a sore loser, Mark. Go get yourself a boyfriend," Baekhyun teases, grinning. Stealing Mark's drink from his hand.

Jongin, who has been silently observing them while fussing over Haerin, meets Mark's eyes and smiles.

For some reason, Mark blushes.

He opts to punch Baekhyun on the arm instead, grumbling under his breath.

-

On the last predicted warm weekend in October, they all decide to go on a picnic. They take Minseok and Jongin's car, piling up too much food inside three baskets. They even go to one of the farther parks, a bigger one with lots of tall trees and a fish pond.

It's a nice weather to be out, the sun letting down gently and the air cool and crisp. Haerin begs to buy a kite when they get there, and Baekhyun and Minseok fight over who gets to buy it for her. Jongin and Mark choose to watch from a distance instead, sitting on the wide tablecloth they've brought out with them, holding the fort down.

"You're very close to them, aren't you?" Jongin pipes up.

"Oh?" Mark says, pulling grass out of the soil underneath him. The question takes him by surprise, and he has to think before he answers. "Yeah. They're.. they take care of me," Mark answers lamely. "Minseok-hyung thinks I live like a disaster and Baekhyun-hyung thinks it's fun to make fun of me."

Jongin laughs. It's nice. The sun on his skin and the wind on his hair. Jongin laughing next to him, watching his daughter run around with Minseok and Baekhyun. Mark tucks his knees under his chin. Jongin's skin looks golden in the morning sun. It's so stupid to pay attention to the apples of someone's cheeks, but Jongin's everything look so golden. Molten 24-carat beat to temptation. They should do picnics more often.

Mark reaches for the watermelon. It's gotten warm under the ray of the sun, Haerin wouldn't want to eat it anymore. Neither will Minseok or Baekhyun. Jongin nudges it closer to him. Mark startles, looks up to thank him, and finds Jongin with an odd look on his face. Kind of amused, a little of something else.

Mark's chest aches. He doesn't want to hope.

Jongin's smile spreads slow and sweet. Like rice cake softening under the sun. Sticky and malleable. Mark thinks about painting his living room yellow.

"I think they love you just fine."

"They do," Mark says. Feeling breathless. "I... Minseok-hyung helped me pick out all of my furniture," he explains. Mark swallows, throat suddenly dry. "I didn't have much... people supporting me back then. They helped me a lot."

Mark picks on the grass in front of him again, fingers twisting around the blades. The watermelon lays forgotten next to him in the path of his sudden confession. He doesn't acknowledge it a lot, how much Minseok and Baekhyun mean to him. The sudden thought makes his words stick together in his throat.

In the distance, Minseok and Baekhyun finally succeeds in flying the kite, it takes up in the air, and the butterfly-shaped kite fly beautifully. Minseok hands the bundle of strings to Haerin, crouching down next to her.

"Mark." A warm hand on his shoulder follows the sound of his name. "I'm glad you have them." Jongin's voice, gentle and deep, settles over him like a warm blanket, like the sun.

Mark takes a shuddering breath, releases it with all of his worries. Jongin's hand stays.

Mark follows the pull.

"Yeah, hyung," he says quietly, "me too." 

The thing in his chest glows brighter, stronger. Like the sun, like Jongin. It sticks to the back of his throat, like warm rice cake.

Mark swallows around the lump in his throat.

This isn't a crush, anymore.

-

On some nights, when Jongin has to work overtime, Mark stays a bit longer.

It gets worse as the end of the year approaches, and Mark familiarizes himself with Jongin's apartment. The koi painting that acts as a center in the living room wall, the framed photos around it. Of Jongin and Haerin and Haerin’s mom, Jongin's family, Haerin and her cousins. The potted plant Mark got for him (surprisingly still thriving under Mark’s care) in the balcony. Haerin's bright blue room. Where Mark gets to tuck Haerin in, sits next to her on her bed and reads to her until she falls asleep.

In those nights, Jongin always comes home at ten earliest. Exhaustion clear in the bags under his eyes, but he always manages a smile for Mark.

They end up more often than not in the kitchen, Mark accompanying Jongin to his late dinner, after Jongin had pressed a kiss to Haerin's forehead.

Mark likes these moments the most, where reality stretches like taffy. Where tomorrow is as distant as a concept as today. A time in-between that exists outside the twelve hours on the clock, a little space in the universe just for Jongin and Mark.

They talk about everything and nothing. And Mark likes it so much. Likes that he can talk about nothing and everything with Jongin. Even with seven years and a kid between them. Mark is comfortable.

He feels himself fall a little more, every day, cocooned in their little bubble where it's just _them._ Jongin and his bright-eyed smiles for Mark.

"Seriously though, Mark. I'm just really glad that you're around, you've helped me a lot with Haerin." Jongin scoops a spoonful of fried rice to his mouth. Frowning when some of it flicks away to the table. Mark picks it up with a tissue and balls it up, to be discarded when he gets out of Jongin's apartment later.

"I have something for you," Jongin says, eyes crinkling with mirth.

Mark perks up. "Something for me?"

Jongin pulls out a small envelope from his pocket, and slides it towards him. "Here, a little bonus, since you've been covering more hours. I don't think one dinner will be enough for the extra mile you've done for Haerin," Jongin says. "You're a good babysitter, Mark. Thank you."

Mark stares at the pristine white enveloped in Jongin's outstretched hand. Something breaks inside Mark. Reality swipes in and crushes a bit of his hopes. A lot of his heart.

Mark takes it, and peeks inside. Won bills. Freshly withdrawn. Of course.

He manages a tight smile. He should always be grateful. His mom often said there are always lessons in the things that happens in life. And even bad things, can inspire good. Mark hopes his heartbreak can generate some good.

He'll donate the money to charity, or something.

"Thank you, hyung,” Mark manages to say, through the sudden emptiness in his chest. “You shouldn't have."

-

The thing about falling too fast and too hard, is that it's really hard to get up from the fall. Mark has fallen before, in his life, but never quite so deep, never quite like this. Never for someone like Jongin.

"So he gave me a bonus," Mark deadpans, staring at the corner where the white ceiling meets the green. "For hanging out with his daughter. Hyung, I ain't shit."

Baekhyun's hand goes up to tangle with his hair, he shifts closer to Mark on the couch. "Mark, that can mean anything."

"I'm just some dumb kid to him, hyung." He sighs into Baekhyun's shoulder. "Just a kid."

"No you're not." Baekhyun pulls Mark closer, tugs on his arm until he's leaning properly against Baekhyun. "You're not, you know that."

Mark sniffs. "He thinks I am." Mark rubs his eyes, closes them as he sags against Baekhyun completely. "He thinks I am." Mark whispers, burying his face on the crook of Baekhyun's neck.

"It's okay Mark, you'll get over it," Baekhyun murmurs into his hair. "You can. Crushes and feelings go away. People move on."

Mark weighs his options. Saying it would make it real, but not acknowledging it _hurts_ so damn much.

"It's not just a crush anymore," he says quietly.

Baekhyun freezes next to him, and then his arms are around Mark. He tucks Mark's head to the crook of his neck, holding Mark _tight_ against him. Like he's afraid Mark will float away if he lets go.

"Oh baby," he murmurs. "Oh no, Minhyung-ah."

And it _is_ different, saying it out loud. Hearing a glass fall and seeing its shattered pieces on the floor are two different things. Mark feels like he's stepping on shards.

He twists his fingers in Baekhyun's shirt, takes a shuddering breath and lets it out as a sob. The hand rubbing his back does little to calm him down. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. Heartbreak never felt this bad before.

"You're okay," Baekhyun keeps murmuring into his hair, "you'll be okay. You'll get through it. We're here with you, okay? It'll be fine."

Three and a half years ago, Baekhyun held his hand when Minseok took Mark furniture-shopping for the first time. Tonight, he's holding it through Mark's hurt, through his sadness.

Even through his heartbreak, Mark feels eternally grateful.

-

Life goes on, Mark tries to stop thinking about Jongin's gentle smiles, his warm touches. Mark still picks up Haerin from school every day, and stays past what's needed when Jongin works overtime.

(The thought of quitting at babysitting Haerin crossed his mind for a quarter of a second, but Haerin tugs his hand to ask Mark if they could ask the nice lady across the street to pet her dog, and Mark feels entirely disgusted by himself.)

Life goes on. Nothing changes.

Except on dinners, Jongin laughs and Mark's heart beats faster, he grins at Mark and Mark stutters through his words. Baekhyun sends him an encouraging smile, everytime, reaches for Mark's hand under the table and squeezes. Minseok sends him a look and a small smile of his own.

Mark takes a shuddering breath.

He's been through worse, he'll do it again.

-

The weather cools down significantly comes Chuseok. Jongin and Haerin go home for the holidays.

The evening before, Baekhyun comes home early enough to start in on songpyeon. Mark freeloads, molding little purple flower petals to put on the white rice cakes, and white petals on the purple ones. Baekhyun hums as they work, neatly folding the rice cakes together over their sesame fillings.

Mark works in silence. Baekhyun knows him well enough to leave him alone, but that doesn't stop him from asking, voice low as he puts the rice cakes over the pine leaves.

"You okay?"

Mark nods. "I miss her a lot, is all," he says quietly.

Baekhyun gives him a hug, after, waiting for the songpyeons to steam. A real, patented Baekhyun-hug that Mark doesn't know how to function without anymore. And if he leaves Baekhyun's shirt with little wet dots, sniffling a little, Baekhyun won't tell Minseok about it.

The hyungs' apartment smells fragrantly of pines and peanuts by the time Minseok comes home. The three of them eat some of the songpyeons while looking out the transparent balcony doors after dinner, gazing at the sky.

They can't see the moon this deep in Seoul but Mark likes to pretend he can. He couldn't see the moon when he was in Vancouver either, but his mom always told him to imagine. And told him that if he chews on the rice cakes while making a wish, it would come true. Mark does, closes his eyes and wishes for health, for happiness, for Minseok and Baekhyun to be okay. He tries to ignore his silent phone, laughing at a joke Minseok made about rice cakes and Baekhyun.

"I'm not chubby," Baekhyun whines.

"I didn't say you were, but these are similar," Minseok says, pinching Baekhyun's cheeks.

Mark sleeps on the couch of their apartment, and early in the morning Minseok sets up the desk in the living room for charye, filling it up with pears that Mark got for them and songpyeon and the food Minseok had prepared singlehandedly the week leading up to Chuseok.

They don't wear hanboks, just fancy button ups and dress pants, but Mark follows Minseok's lead in charye, getting down on his knees and bowing even if he has no ancestors to come back to. Only his mother.

Mark thinks of her, prays for her, thanks her, wishes her well.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Mark bows deeply after, on his knees to Minseok and Baekhyun. "I hope we can spend the next year healthy too."

They eat afterwards, sitting down on the carpeted floor of the living room, chasing all the food Minseok cooked with sindoju. It's a feast, as it always is. It's gonna be a bitch cleaning the dishes and airing out the room so it won't smell like food anymore, but it's totally worth it.

"I have something for you," Minseok says, as they clear up the leftovers and dishes. He's going to take them all to watch ssireum, Mark is sure, or go down his family grave to clean it up even if it means risking seeing his own mother, but right now Mark sags against the kitchen table, watching Baekhyun putter around it, tummy full of warm food and chewy rice cakes.

"What's that," Mark remarks.

Minseok smiles and pulls out an envelope, handing it out to Mark.

Mark laughs, but takes the envelope from Minseok's outstretched hand. "Hyung, I'm too old for this."

"Nonsense," Baekhyun quips, stopping on his track to bend down and press a kiss on top of Mark's head. "You'll always be our baby. Happy Chuseok, Minhyung-ah. Let's always be healthy."

"Happy Chuseok," Mark stammers out, throat sticking and chest constricting. He blinks back the tears threatening to fall. "Thank you." 

That night, Mark gets a notice from his bank app, someone depositing 200,000KRW in his account. Mark sighs.

"Gift from old man?" Minseok asks.

Mark nods.

"He said anything this year?"

Mark shakes his head.

"That's fine," Minseok says, "you can use the money to buy something for Haerin. Let's go shopping tomorrow."

"Yeah," Mark agrees. He looks up to find Minseok watching him carefully. Minseok shouldn't worry that much anymore. Mark's all better now.

He shoots him a cheeky grin, just to see the lines disappear from Minseok's forehead. "Can I sleep here again, hyung?"

"Of course." Minseok breaks out into a smile, reaching out to ruffle Mark's hair. "Who's going to help me finish all this food otherwise?"

-

Finals finally swing by in full force by the last week of November, and Mark finally asks for a break in his babysitting schedule.

"Two weeks," Mark pleads over dinner. "For finals. I'm sorry, hyung."

Jongin waves him off. "It's okay, Mark. Do your best, alright?"

Mark nods, smiling, but drops it when he sees Haerin frown.

“Is something wrong, Haerinnie?”

Haerin looks up with sad eyes. Mark feels instantly like a jackass. "I'll miss you, oppa,” she says, voice small.

“Oh baby.” Mark leans over to hug her, even if the table between them makes it hard for him to. "Two weeks, Haerinnie," Mark tries for reassuring. Grins at Haerin. "And then oppa will be free, alright?"

“Okay,” Haerin mumbles.

Mark pats her head, hopes she doesn’t miss him too much.

-

Mark knows finals have officially started when Donghyuck knocks on his door, a backpack bulging with clothes over his shoulders and his laptop clutched tightly to his chest.

“Ready for war?” Donghyuck grins.

Mark sighs. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

-

"Mark, Minseok-hyung told me to..." Jongin trails off, eyes wide, looking at Mark like he's seeing a ghost. Mark won't be surprised if Jongin mistakes him for one. He hasn't slept properly in four days. There's a pimple throbbing on his chin and his scalp itches. He should shower, change his hoodie. It's been three days, but everything pales at the thought of his studio deadline merely two days away. 

Mark turns around and lets Jongin get inside on his own

"Just put it wherever," Mark mumbles, waving a hand. He walks back to the living room, where all of his sketches are strewn around the table, cutters and scraps of cardboard covering nearly every surface of the floor.

Jongin makes no comment as Mark settles on his previous spot amidst the chaos, grabbing for a cutter and starts to cut shorter pieces again. 

Jongin putters around in the kitchen, Mark hears the clanging of pots and pans, the sound of a stove clicking on and the kitchen hood getting turned on.

"Where's donghyuck?"

"Went home," Mark answers. Donghyuck went home somewhere between finishing his sketch and needing to build his mock-up. He'll be back within the week. As he always is.

"Have you eaten?" Jongin asks.

Mark makes a noncommittal sound and shakes his head. He grabs his coffee mug, lifts it to his mouth and makes a confused noise when nothing comes out of it. Jongin plucks it from his hand and pats the top of his head.

"Let me refill that for you."

Mark mutters out a small thanks, going back to cut a piece of roof from the cardboard. But his vision blurs, Mark sighs, presses both palms to his eyes.

"Mark, come eat." Jongin calls out.

Mark gets up groggily, shuffles his way to the dining table where Jongin has laid out a full meal for him. Rice on a small bowl, jjigae on another, with a plate of stir-fried beef and banchan and broccolis on the side.

Mark just stares for a while, brain too dumb to comprehend what it is he's supposed to do.

"Go on, Mark, eat," Jongin says gently.

"Right." Mark picks up his chopsticks and eats, the beef has the distinct taste of Minseok's cooking, but the jjigae doesn't taste like anything Minseok has made. It's less spicy, more sweet.

"When Minseok-hyung asked me to check up on you and drop off some food I didn't know I'd find you half dead," Jongin jokes. He's cradling a mug full of tea to his chest. It smells like green tea. Mark remembers with sudden clarity the coffee mug he'd been using for the better part of three days. Mug after mug of terrible, jet-black coffee. His stomach kinda hurts from having so much coffee. He should stop. Someday Mark will be an adult who drinks green tea and not coffee like Jongin. And maybe then Jongin will fall in love with him. But until he graduates, he'll be a coffee-chugging college student all the way.

Mark lets out some other unintelligible noise. "Studio." Is all he manages to say.

"Take a break, Mark-ya. Shower, take a nap. I'll wake you up."

Mark frowns, something doesn't sound right with that.

"Where's Haerin?"

"Haerinnie is with her cousins."

"Oh." Mark says simply. This is Jongin's day off, and he's spending it babysitting Mark. Mark grimaces. "Sorry for taking your day off, hyung, you can.. you can leave me. I'll be fine."

Now it's Jongin's turn to make an unintelligible noise. He looks at Mark like Mark has grown two heads. "Don't be silly, I'm your hyung now, too. Let me take care of you too." 

Jongin probably means it in the best, most familial way possible, but something about the statement makes Mark flush down to his toes. It's quickly beaten down with the steady stream of _he probably thinks of you as a little brother_ coming from his tired brain.

Jongin insists that Mark showers and naps, Mark concedes only if he's allowed to sleep on the couch and not the bed, otherwise he wouldn't wake up until the day is over.

Jongin sighs, but doesn't make any further comments as Mark sinks further into the plush couch. There's a reason why he got such nice throw pillows on the couch. He makes little satisfied noises, nuzzling his face on the soft pillows, eyelids heavy. It isn't long before sleep pulls him under, with the sound of Jongin clattering about his house lulling him to sleep.

-

"Mark," Jongin says softly, shaking his shoulder. "Mark wake up, it's been two hours."

Mark mumbles incoherently into the pillow. Jongin's hand travels up his hair, rucking it up. It feels so nice. Mark sighs and leans into it.

"Mark," he says again, still soft. Gentle fingers still in his hair. "Come on, you'll get upset otherwise."

Mark inhales sharply, and then blinks awake blearily.

"Hfhgfh," he says smartly, and yawns. "Wha' time is it?" He says, stretching up. Jongin retracts his fingers, Mark mourns the loss.

"A little past one," Jongin says. "I went out and got you a frappe and some snacks. They're in the kitchen."

Mark shoots up. "Frappe? You got me Java Chip?"

Mark bounds up, and falters because.. wow. His workspace has been cleared, his drafts neatly rolled up and organized and his model put up on top of the table.

"I didn't throw anything away," Jongin says, "I don't know which ones are trash and which ones aren't so I put it over there."

Jongin points to two small containers on the edge of the table, where he divided between papers and cut ups of cardboards.

Mark reels because right now he kind of wants to hug Jongin a lot, or kiss him, maybe. Definitely kiss him. Mark squashes down his thoughts.

"Thank you," Mark says, voice tight, too full of emotions he can't name himself. "Thank you, hyung."

Jongin smiles at him, lazy, indulgent. Yellow like the sun, but heartbreak colors it purple.

Mark swallows heavily, tears his gaze away even if all he wants to do is to _look._

"You're welcome, Mark-ya."

-

Mark lugs through the finishing touches of his studio, not sleeping at all until his model is ready and safely tucked in the backseat of his car. On due day, Mark picks up an equally zombified Donghyuck, and they go together to the collecting day, going through the day automatically, filing in documents and legalizing sketches. He drops Donghyuck off a little over twelve, with mumbled promises to see him later.

He feels dead tired, but relieved, like he always does after he checks in his studio. Mark stumbles into his apartment with little finesse, not even bothering to turn on the lights or lock his door, falling face first into the couch.

_hyung-deul im done_

He sends the text to the group chat and promptly knocks out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

-

The pitter-patter of small feet is what wakes him up. Mark yawns into his hand, rubbing sleep over his eyes just as small hands start to shake his shoulder.

"I'm up! I'm up!" Mark yells.

Haerin giggles. "Oppa, you were drooling."

Mark makes a show of wiping the corners of his mouth and widening his eyes. "I did? Oh no."

Haerin laughs, and promptly climbs to the couch, settling somewhere over his lap. Mark just opens his arms for Haerin to snuggle into, her squealing when Mark wraps his arms around her and sits up.

"I told her not to bother you, but she went and did it anyways," Jongin's deep voice carries over from the kitchen.

Mark smiles against her hair.

"It's alright, hyung, I was already awake."

Haerin starts squirming and whining against him so Mark lets her go, follows her to the kitchen where Jongin is standing over the stove, heating something that smells absolutely divine.

Mark pulls out a chair and yawns some more.

"What is that, hyung? It smells good."

"Braised fish, I got it from your fridge, actually."

"Minseok-hyung must've put it there, then." Mark says around another yawn. He scratches his head, for the first time looks around at his drawn curtains, the lights turned on. "What time is it?"

"Seven," Jongin answers.

He fell asleep for six hours. Mark cringes. He'll have fun trying to normalize his sleeping schedule again. 

"Oppa," Haerin calls. The marker set Mark got her set out neatly in front of her. "May I have your arm.” 

Mark sticks out his hand to Haerin who's sitting next to him, feet dangling from the chair. He rolls up his sleeve dutifully.

"Flower today please. Sunflower."

"Haerinnie, don't bother Mark-oppa, he's tired," Jongin scolds softly, busy hands pulling out the fish from the microwave.

"It's fine, hyung." Mark waves him off. "Gotta have my daily tattoo by my favorite tattoo artist." Mark uses the hand otherwise unoccupied to pat Haerin on the head once. Her face is scrunched up in concentration, a yellow marker on her hand, drawing steadily on Mark's forearm.

Jongin sighs, but doesn't make any further comments. He shuffles around, setting plates and utensils in front of Mark. Mark only feels kind of bad. Minseok-hyung must've sent him over again, if he's here right now.

Jongin places a glass full of water in front of Haerin, and takes a seat in front of her.

"Thank you for the food," Mark murmurs softly. He closes his eyes, prays with one hand, the other still occupied by Haerin, and goes for the chopsticks. For a while there's nothing but the sound of Haerin mumbling under her breath and Mark eating.

Jongin opens a tangerine, peeling one and feeding it to Haerin, who chomps on it like a champ. Her face scrunches a little once she starts chewing.

"Is it sour, baby?" Jongin asks, popping a piece of orange into his mouth.

Haerin nods. "But I like it."

"Alright, do you still want more?"

Haerin pauses with her drawing. "Two more, please."

Jongin hand feeds her the tangerines while Mark eats. The braised fish tastes delicious, the rice is warm and the kimchi perfect. The food fills him up in no time. Mark feels warm with the food and the company. It feels like it's been _years_ since Mark last had a proper meal.

"Do you always get like this on deadlines?"

Jongin's question catches Mark off guard. He swallows, licks his lips to catch a stray rice from the corner of his mouth. Gets pleasantly surprised when Jongin follows the movement.

"Yeah, sorry, hyung. Usually Minseokkie-hyung checks up on me. Since he's been where I am."

Jongin frowns. "You should take care of yourself more. There's gotta be a way so it's not this... intense, all the time."

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" Mark lets go of his chopsticks and picks up his spoon, digs it into the small mountain of rice Jongin got for him. "I always start my drafts early, but when I'm making the actual model it takes a lot of time and a lot of handwork."

"Do you need help?"

"What?" Mark looks up at Jongin, blinking in surprise. "Sure, but I don't think Haerin is careful enough to help me?"

Jongin gives him a crooked smile. It's endearing. "No, silly, I meant I could help. You can just tell me what to do."

"I'll let you know, then," Mark says, looking down to the table. Doesn't know what he's feeling. Doesn't know what to make of this. He keeps misinterpreting Jongin's actions. Jongin's words. "Next semester."

"Done!" Haerin chirps. She lets go of Mark's hand and he inspects it carefully, the little sunflower Haerin has drawn on his arm.

"It's beautiful, Haerin-ah," Mark says softly. Haerin beams at him. Mark grins, patting her head again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she sing-songs, carefully tucking in the markers to their correct position.

Mark turns to Jongin, about to ask about Minseok and Baekhyun when he catches Jongin looking at him, a soft smile in place. It's gone as soon as it comes, Jongin immediately fussing over Haerin and her markers, but it stayed long enough to make Mark's heart beat faster.

"Haerinnie, do you want to eat with oppa?" Jongin asks, casting his eyes away.

"I'm full, daddy, thank you." She replies politely. "Do you like the flower I made?"

Jongin nods vigorously. "Of course," he says, carding his fingers through her hair, smiling gently, "it's very beautiful. Daddy loves it. Will you draw one for me too, baby?"

Haerin curls her nose. "Tomorrow, daddy. I have to rest my hand so it doesn't get ober--overused."

Jongin chuckles. "Alright, baby. I'll keep your promise."

-

Finals pass in a blur, with he and Donghyuck setting up camp in Mark's living room, surviving off of Minseok's food and coffee. Minseok, Baekhyun, and Jongin drop by once in a while, checking up on them and making sure they don't study themselves to an early grave. When Jongin visits, Donghyuck never forgets to send Mark a sly smirk and a wag of his eyebrows. Mark would be annoyed if he wasn't so used to it. He's taken to just sending Donghyuck a withering stare, before asking him about color theories in mainstream media.

Haerin visits, once, and Mark wonders who has been taking care of her since Mark can't babysit anymore.

"I've been dropping her off at Junmyeon-hyung's," Jongin explains, picking up textbooks and setting them neatly on the table. Mark would help if he had any strength right now. "She gets home later than usual but it's fine, Mark. We're managing."

"Sorry, hyung," Mark says, slumped over Donghyuck's sleeping form on the couch. He's snoring and making a stain right on the fabric but Mark doesn't have it in to wake him up.

"After finals I can watch over Haerin again, I promise."

Jongin just sends him a kind smile. "Just get through your finals, Mark-ya."

Jongin raises his hand, like he's about to reach over and ruffle through Mark's hair. But it jerks mid-air and Jongin balls his fist, sets them tightly on top of his lap.

What's left of Mark's hope is crushed along with Jongin's hesitance. He barely feels it, exhausted as he is.

-

Winter break rolls around, and with it Jongin's sudden three-day business trip.

"Mark," Jongin asks over their usual evening cup of tea, "can you babysit for three days?"

"I'm--yeah, sure, but are you sure?"

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "I trust you," he says.

The words feel big. Bigger than anything Jongin had ever told Mark. Mark feel his breath get knocked out of him. Jongin just continues sipping his tea as if it's no big deal to trust a stranger with your kid for three days.

"I trust you, Mark."

Mark doesn't know what to make of all this. The push and pull Jongin does on him. He accepts it. Accepts the feeling as it is. If he tries to refuse them, it'll just hurt him more.

He fiddles with his mug of tea. Earl grey and milk, and nods.

-

"It'll be fine, hyung," Mark assures Jongin, who's still lingering by the door. Haerin is rubbing her eyes next to Mark, a hand fisted in the material of his sweatpants. Mark puts a hand on her head, just to feel her soft hair filling the spaces between his fingers. 

"We'll be fine, right Haerin-ah?" Mark asks, looking down. 

Haerin nods. "When will you be back, daddy?" She asks, voice small. Jongin has told her, and will continue to tell her, no matter how many times she asks.

Jongin crouches down to meet her eyes, and opens his arms. Haerin shuffles into it immediately, hugging Jongin close.

"I'll be back Saturday morning, baby."

"I'll miss you, daddy," Haerin says, voice small.

"I'll miss you too Haerinnie."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Jongin looks so sad at the moment, that Mark almost didn't have the heart to coax Haerin to let go. Jongin closes the door to his own apartment with a frown and a sad twist to his lips. Leaving Mark and his daughter behind. Mark hopes, sincerely, that _he_ doesn't miss Jongin too much too.

-

Haerin is quiet almost all morning, barely touching the pancakes Mark made for her. Mark thought it was because he misses Jongin, but five hours into his day with Haerin, just as they're drawing on the coffee table, Haerin proves Mark wrong.

She tugs on his arm and says miserably. "Oppa, I don't feel too good."

Mark lays the back of his hand on Haerin's forehead. Gasps.

"Oh no, baby, you're burning up."

Mark moves her to her bedroom, where Haerin curls up under her carrot patterned blanket, clutching Bunny close to her chest.

Mark makes her sweet tea and brings it to her, tries to get her to drink it but Haerin wouldn't. Turns her head when Mark tries to feed her.

"It hurts when I swallow."

The next hour the coughing worsens, and Haerin starts having trouble breathing. Mark quickly gives her her inhaler, and Haerin dutifully breathes in when Mark pushes. She starts crying right after, coughing never abating, and Mark only slightly panics. Paces outside of her bedroom as he fishes his phone out, dialing Baekhyun's number.

Baekhyun picks up on the first ring.

_"Hello?"_

"Hyung? Could you come over to Jongin-hyung's? Haerin is sick. Please, hyung."

_"On my way. Relax, Mark. She'll be alright."_

By the time Baekhyun is there (which is no time at all, considering he's next door), Mark has chewed his nails off with worry. Mark has never been more glad that Baekhyun is a pediatrician resident.

"Hey baby," Baekhyun coos, urges her to sit up on her bed. "Must hurt a lot huh? Thank you for being strong for me."

He shushes Haerin, calmly inspects her throat and listens to her breathing with his stethoscope. He checks her temperature, too, and cards his fingers through her hair as he explains to Mark.

"She's fine. I think she has a cold, and an asthma attack. Just continue with her asthma meds. I'll tell you how to up the dose. Get her to sleep if you can." Baekhyun sends Mark his best apologetic smile. "I'm going to give her some paracetamol and vitamins, but other than that, she should be fine."

Baekhyun makes Mark redeem the prescription while he stays with Haerin, Mark has never dashed in and out of an apartment so fast in his life before.

Haerin settles down a little after Mark gives her the medicine Baekhyun prescribed, and Baekhyun pats his shoulder reassuringly.

"I have to go now, Mark-ya. Don't worry, just give her her meds as needed, and she'll be right as rain."

Mark pulls Baekhyun into a hug before he goes. "Thank you hyung, thank you so much."

Baekhyun pats his back reassuringly, chuckling. "Of course, aegi. Don't worry about it."

-

Haerin doesn't sleep, and neither does Mark.

She spends the night crying her eyes out, clutching weakly at Mark's shirt, calling in a hoarse voice for her dad. Mark moves her to Jongin's bed because she keeps calling out for him.

Mark gets self-conscious in Jongin's room, can't help but feel like he's intruding. He tries his best not to peek around too much.

"Sshh," Mark mumbles into her hair, he hoists Haerin up to his waist and walks around the living room. She's a little too big to be carried around like that but Mark can't help it, feels the need to do something to comfort her. Haerin buries her face into the crook of his neck, crying still, Mark can feel the snot and tears on his skin. But he couldn't care less, he just wants Haerin to stop crying.

"Wan' daddy," she says, voice hoarse. She hiccups before bursting into another fresh round of tears. Mark rocks her gently in his arms, his hands going up and down her back, trying to soothe.

"I know, princess. We'll call your dad first thing in the morning, okay? But now you need to sleep, so you'll get better and the icky feeling will be gone."

Haerin sniffles, but her cries quiet down. Enough for Mark to set her in Jongin's bed again, and he changes her sleep shirt, the previous one soaked through with tears and sweat.

Mark tries to get her to let go of his shirt so he could change, too, but her lips start to wobble, eyes going dangerously wet and Mark changes his mind, climbs into bed with her with a dirty shirt.

She refuses to let go, tiny fists digging into the soft material of Mark's shirt, body tucked to his side. She's still sniffling, hiccups wracking through her small frame now and then. Mark starts to hum, one of the many ballads that Donghyuck had not so secretly put in his playlist. Mumbling along to the lyrics.

Soon Haerin's sniffling dies down completely, and all that's left is her quiet breathing, still through her mouth.

Mark sighs, snuggles up to Haerin's warm body and closes his eyes. He hopes tomorrow will be better.

-

In the morning Haerin's fever has gone down, and she's cooperative enough for Mark to bring her to the dining table. She seems to be worn out from all the crying last night. Mark calls Minseok.

"Hyung," Mark sighs into the receiver, "got any porridge recipes?"

Minseok hangs up.

An hour later Minseok shows up with a pot of ginger chicken porridge. Usually neat hair in disarray, eyebags under his eyes. Mark knows he has a deadline that day, he feels bad for bothering him.

"I'll come by after I send in my final drafts," Minseok says.

Mark reheats the porridge, and he knows Haerin can eat on her own, but he feeds her anyways. Blowing on the porridge before feeding it to her.

Haerin eats in small bites, slowly, but enough that relief floods through Mark immediately.

Mark wipes her down afterwards with warm water and a washcloth. Doesn't know if she'll be up for showering or not. He changes her clothes and feeds her her medicine. Haerin takes them obediently.

"Does it still hurt baby?" Mark asks softly.

Haerin nods and pats her throat. "Hurts," she says, voice gravelly.

Mark settles her on the bed again, where Haerin keeps her bunny close to her chest. Mark kisses her forehead and goes outside. "I'll be right back."

He makes good on his promise and calls Jongin. Who picks up on the first ring.

"Okay, don't panic," Mark rushes out. He probably shouldn't have started with that because Jongin's voice rises.

"What? Why? Is Haerin okay?"

"She got a cold yesterday, and Baekhyun-hyung said it triggered her asthma. I gave her her inhaler and Baekhyun-hyung prescribed her some paracetamol, she's fine now. Her fever broke this morning. But she misses you."

When Jongin doesn't respond, Mark rambles on.

"Also we slept in your bed because she wouldn't sleep in hers, so I'm really sorry for breaking whatever rule you guys have about bedtime."

Mark panics, flails his hand about and paces as he talks and talks. Jongin's still not answering.

"Hyung?" He winces internally.

Mark hears him inhale, then exhale. "Where is she now?"

"In your bed, I thought we could facetime? Can you?"

"Yeah, please put her on."

Mark pads over to the bedroom, and sits down. "Haerin, honey, your dad wants to talk to you."

Haerin's face lights up, and she sits up. Mark turns on the video call and puts the phone in front of her.

"Daddy!" She squeals, then burst into a round of coughs. Mark makes a noise and starts rubbing her back. When it's died down, she takes a deep breath that seems to rattle her lungs and goes back to looking at Jongin again.

Jongin's face is open and soft, but there's a line of worry in his mouth. "Hey, princess, how are you feeling?"

Haerin pats her throat again. "It hurts when I speak."

"I'm sorry I can't be there."

Haerin shakes her head. "Oppa said you really want to go home early but your boss won't let you. It's okay dad, sometimes Mina-seonsang doesn't let me go home when I ask her too. I understand." She says seriously, in what Mark has dubbed as her 'Jongin-coddling' voice.

"Thank you baby, but I get really worried when you're sick."

"Uncle said if I drink my medicine I'm gonna be healthy again," Haerin says, "and you'll be happy if I get healthy right?"

"Smart girl," Jongin says, and Mark also melts a little at how proud Jongin looks. "Daddy will be happy if you're healthy, but daddy is always happy with you." 

Haerin frowns then. "Daddy, I miss you."

"I miss you too, kiddo. I'll try to come home early, okay? Be a good girl and listen to Mark-oppa."

"I do! I always drink the medicine when oppa tells me to, even if it's icky."

"That's right," Mark says proudly, giving her hand to high-five. "She always finishes until the last drop, my strong padawan."

Haerin giggles, face lighting up, and Jongin chuckles in response.

"When I'm healthy again, can we go to the park please, daddy? I want to play in the swing again."

"I don't know baby... it's winter, it'll be cold."

Haerin nods sadly.

"We can go to uncle Junmyeon's though? Go see Jeno and Doyoung? How about that?"

"Yeah! I want to play with Doyoungie again!"

"Okay, but you have to get healthy first, alright?"

"Okay," Haerin chirps.

"I have to talk to Mark-oppa again now, okay? I'll call you later, okay baby? I love you."

"I love you too, daddy."

Mark ruffles her hair and turns the camera to himself, leaving the room so he can get more serious with the talking.

Jongin blinks when he sees Mark, and Mark just realized how horrible he must look. Greasy hair in disarray, a pimple making itself known on his chin, eyebags probably, pale complexion.

Jongin looks stunning, if tired, top three of his button undone. He's in hotel room, sitting on an armchair.

"Thank you for taking care of Haerin, Mark."

Mark shakes his head. "My pleasure, I'm just glad she's feeling better."

"I'll try to go home today, there's gotta be a seat available on the train."

"No hyung," Mark says, "it's fine. I know how important this merger talk is for you. I can take care of her. Besides, there's Minseok-hyung and Baekhyun-hyung."

Jongin chews on his bottom lips. "I know, but I'm really worried. I feel like I have to see her."

"Now who's got separation anxiety?" Mark jokes. "It's alright, hyung. I'll keep you posted every hour. Yesterday was just really hectic."

Jongin seems to hesitate, but he nods. "Call me if anything else happens."

"Will do, hyung, will do."

-

By the time Minseok swings around, carrying a container of soup with him, Mark hasn't actually gotten more sleep. Haerin is dozing in Jongin's bed again, blankets tucked up to her chin.

"Mark," Minseok says, he looks concerned. "Go home, take a nap, I'll take it from here."

"I'm--" Mark stutters, "I shouldn't--"

"Mark, come on," Minseok chastises him gently, "it's fine. What am I giving her after lunch?"

Mark shows him the meds that he needs to give her, and by the time Mark says "she likes it when you sing to her," Minseok has rolled his eyes five times and pushes Mark out the door.

"Go home, take a shower, take a nap." He says, before closing Jongin's door to his face.

Mark walks briskly to his own apartment and all but sags on the floor by the time he's inside. He closes his eyes, laying there on the hallway. Just fifteen minutes.

-

When he wakes up, the sun has gone down a little, bathing Mark's apartment in soft evening light. He curses, remembering vividly that he'd promised Jongin he'd update him on Haerin every hour. Mark scrambles for his phone, and finds that it's dead. He sighs. Groaning as he sits up, his sides and his head ache. He's getting too old to just randomly pass out on the floor.

Mark stands up with maximum grumbling, and goes to turn all the lights on in his house. He goes to his bedroom and plugs his phone in, before making a beeline for the bathroom. He takes a long time showering, rinsing off all the sick from his pores and scrubbing all parts of his skin. Then he puts on his serum and his moisturizer and thanks God for the magic that is skincare because he feels infinitely better.

Once he's in a new pair of hoodie and sweats, Mark takes his phone, texting Jongin to apologize for falling asleep and forgetting to keep up with him.

-

When he gets into Jongin's apartment, he finds Baekhyun leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in his hand. He's watching Minseok carefully, who's lying on the couch watching TV with a low volume, Haerin tucked against his side, dozing.

Mark stands next to Baekhyun. They watch Minseok together, the rise and fall of his chest matching Haerin's. The chatter of the TV as a grounding noise.

"He'll make a great dad, you know," Mark says.

"I know." Baekhyun sighs. "I'm working on it."

Mark laughs, and bumps his shoulder against Baekhyun's.

By the time dinner time rolls around, Mark wakes Haerin gently by shaking on her shoulder. Haerin blinks awake drowsily, and it makes Mark's heart full when he reaches for him.

"Oppa," she mumbles.

Mark scoops her up in his arms and carries her the short distance to the dining table, where Baekhyun and Minseok (who extricated himself very carefully and with much cute noises) has laid out a whole dinner.

Haerin refuses to leave Mark's lap and he indulges her for a while, watching her eat as he tries to scoop some of the rice and beef into his own mouth.

It fills him up that Haerin is eating normally again, chatting their ear off about her teachers at school, and how awesome her friend Chaeyoung really is.

"And she has an elephant doll," Haerin says, some of the rice spitting out of her mouth. "Isn't that cool? Oppa! I have Bunny and she has Jinyoungie and they live together in the forest."

"It sure is honey, is Jinyoungie bigger than Bunny?" Mark answers, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Chew first, Haerin-ah, and then talk."

"Of course," she protests. "Jinyoungie is an elephant, weren't you listening?"

"I was. I was just making sure Bunny isn't secretly gigantic."

"No no!" Haerin shakes her head, shaking her tiny fist. "Chaeyoung said that elephants are really big. They live in Thailand, did you know that oppa?"

"No I didn't honey. Where is Thailand?"

"South-East Asia!" She beams. "There are a lot of elephants in Thailand, and Chaeyoung said her mom rode one once, and she needed a ladder to get on. Can we ride elephants too oppa?"

Mark is going to have a very long conversation about animal rights with her one day, and Haerin is _not_ going to like it. "We're gonna have to ask your dad on that."

"Okay! Can we call him again? I miss him."

"After dinner, okay honey?"

Haerin nods, and finishes off her food without much preamble. Squirming in Mark's lap when she's done. Mark lets her off, and Haerin goes to sit by herself next to him. Watching Mark eat.

Mark finishes quickly and makes her eat her medicine, she finishes with a scrunch of her nose. Mark chuckles, pats her head. "Smart girl."

"You're going to get well really soon Haerin-ah," Baekhyun says. "I promise. Doctor's oath."

Haerin beams at Baekhyun, and drags Mark around so she can shower and change into her favorite pair of pajamas. Then she sits patiently in front of the TV so Mark can put on Frozen for her.

Haerin makes them all watch Frozen. Her uncles Baekhyun and Minseok and her Mark-oppa. She sits between Mark and Minseok, with Baekhyun occupying the loveseat.

She dozes halfway into the movie, an effect of the medicine, and Mark's heart just feels so full. He kisses the top of her head and gently scoops her in his arms again, carrying her to her own bedroom, tucking her in.

It's barely nine by the time he goes back to the living room, and he sags on the couch, jelly against the back rest.

Mark groans. "God I never want to see her sick again."

"You're so whipped," Minseok says, he's migrated to the loveseat and is cuddling with Baekhyun, arms around Baekhyun's middle. It's kind of sweet. "Like, so fucking whipped, Mark."

Mark chucks a throw pillow at him. "Like you're not."

"Oh I am. That girl is my favorite niece, and Jongin will have to pry my uncle status from my cold, dead hands."

"Min," Baekhyun murmurs softly. "You sure you don't wanna get a baby of your own?"

Minseok looks at Baekhyun, eyes wide. He just stares for a while. "You mean that?"

Baekhyun nods, and Minseok goes through about five different emotions, one being he totally wants to fuck Baekhyun right there and then. Mark's half surprised that Baekhyun is the one with tact right now.

Baekhyun laughs freely, pecks Minseok's lips. "Come on, Min. Let's take this next door, okay?" He pulls Minseok to his feet, not forgetting to throw a wink over at Mark over his shoulder as they leave.

Mark pretends to gag, but he smiles anyway.

-

Mark spends the next two hours browsing on his laptop, watching youtube videos and catching up to all the latest memes and gossips. In the quiet of Jongin's apartment, Mark feels settled, somehow.

He'd never liked the quiet before. Didn't like how empty it makes his apartment always feel. But this quiet is different. It's brimming with the knowledge that Haerin is asleep in her room, that Minseok and Baekhyun are one door down should he need them, that Donghyuck is one call away. It's a nice change from three years ago, a steady climb up.

_Slowly,_ his therapist used to say, _you would come to realize that there are people who care about you._

Mark wonders if this is it, if this is her premonition come to life.

_No,_ she would say, _you did this. This is your effort._

Mark snorts, chuckling at nothing in particular.

She would be right.

Mark takes a sip of his tea, the one he stole from Jongin's counter. How nice it feels to be alone, but not actually alone at all.

-

It's half an hour to midnight when the knob turns suddenly, and Jongin walks in, suit rumpled from travel, face utterly exhausted.

Mark scrambles up and goes to him, immediately reaching for his carry-on bag.

"Oh you don't have to--" Jongin stares at him.

Mark shakes his head and blushes, only recognizes how he looks like a housewife greeting her husband who just came back from a business trip. He shoulders through the shame, picks up Jongin's carry on and slings it over his shoulder.

"It's alright, I know you're exhausted." 

"Thank you," Jongin rushes. "Where is she?" He looks around, looking for Haerin.

"In her room," Mark answers, walking towards Jongin's bedroom. "She's doing okay now, just her throat still itches sometimes."

Jongin heads straight to Haerin's room, and Mark follows a little bit after, just in time to see Jongin sitting on the edge of the bed, the softest smile on his face. He bends down to kiss Haerin's forehead, and Mark feels warmth travel to the tips of his toes.

Jongin stays there for a while, just staring at his daughter adoringly.

Mark feels like intruding, so he turns around, and wanders off to the kitchen.

-

Jongin comes out to the kitchen a couple of minutes later, eyes surprisingly wet. Mark looks up from his laptop, and smiles at him. He pushes his glasses back, he'd migrated from the couch to the kitchen.

"Are you hungry, hyung? We still have leftovers from dinner."

Jongin observes him from the entrance of the kitchen, then shakes his head. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and takes a seat across from Mark. Mark continues replying to chats from Donghyuck, but when Jongin makes no move to say anything, just stares at him, he puts his laptop on sleep and takes off his glasses, folds it and puts it neatly on top of his laptop.

"What's up hyung?"

Jongin shakes his head, smiles a secret smile that Mark has yet to decipher. "Thank you, for taking care of Haerin."

"Of course, hyung."

Jongin doesn't speak further, just keeps staring at him. A part of Mark, hopelessly fond and confused about it, even if he _knows_ , feels hopeful still. Feels like they're on the precipice of something. Like Jongin is supposed to say something _important._

But Jongin doesn't say anything, averts his gaze and drinks more of his cold water.

"You should go home Mark, I can take it from here."

Mark hesitates, he knows he should. There isn't any more reason for him to stay. But it feels wrong, somehow. Mark wants to see Haerin wake up in the morning, hear her little footsteps look for him to see if he's awake yet. Wants to make sure she's okay when she wakes up tomorrow. He almost asks Jongin if he could stay, but the suddenly charged atmosphere makes Mark stand up instead. Gathers his stuff in his totebag.

Jongin walks him to the door, and Mark lingers. He doesn't want to go back home yet.

"Well, text me? Tell me how she is tomorrow?" Mark asks hopefully.

Jongin nods, but doesn't invite Mark over tomorrow morning. Mark's stomach falls. He walks silently back to his apartment, where the silence feels too deafening without Haerin's quiet breathing.

Back in his navy-blue room, staring at his ceiling, Mark tosses and turns. He feels hollow.

-

Mark wakes up to a pounding headache and feels sore all over. He groans, rolls over to the other side where the bed is cooler, and pulls up his blanket where he'd kicked it down his legs.

He squints, reaching for his phone, unlocking it and looking at the time. It's six. His throat feels raw when he swallows. Mark sighs.

Mark should text Donghyuck or the groupchat, but sleep pulls him under before he can do anything.

Mark wakes up again a little bit before eight and immediately jolts upright. A bad decision, because his head throbs _loudly_. He groans, getting up and dragging the blanket with him, pads over to the couch where he lies down, feet over the arm of it, bundled up in the warm wool.

He opens Baekhyun's chat.

_hyung i am sick_

_caught haerin's cold? u got any cold meds markie_

_yeah but am lonely_

_k_

Mark huffs, pouting at himself. He knows Saturdays are date days for the hyungs but he thinks Baekhyun would come over or something. Minseok, at least.

_if i die i will blame it on u_

He sends the text and burrows in his blanket burrito, limbs heavy and warm--not the good kind. Mark shuts his eyes, and falls asleep.

-

He wakes up only because someone's ringing on his door. Mark blinks awake groggily, rubs a fist over his eyes. His entire body aches, but he doesn't feel so warm anymore. Mark gets up, shirt sticking on him because of the sweat.

He figures it's Baekhyun or Minseok finally taking pity on him, Mark drags his blanket with him too, throwing it over his head and around his shoulders like a makeshift robe.

The bell rings again, Mark yells a loud but short "Coming!", dragging his feet to the door.

He opens it and almost closes it again when he find Jongin's worried face on the other side instead of Minseok's.

Mark blinks, eyes wide, at Jongin.

"Can I come in?"

Mark peers around for any signs of Haerin but finds none. He nods, making room for Jongin to pass.

-

Jongin makes Mark eat a simple lunch, makes him shower and change and opens the blinds to his windows. He makes Mark drink his cold medicine, hands cocked on his hips and eyebrow raised. 

Mark miserably crawls back to his bed afterwards, cocooning himself once more in his blanket burrito. Jongin sprawls next to him in with a relieved sigh, closes his eyes and interlaces his fingers together on top of his stomach.

"Hyung, you should go home, what if Haerin starts looking for you?" Mark mumbles, voice muffled by the blanket.

"My mom is there, she'll be fine." Jongin says.

It's not fair, Mark thinks, watching Jongin's chest rise up and down with each breath. That even when Jongin is making himself hard to love. That even when it's painfully obvious Jongin tries his best to keep Mark at an arm's length, through the push and pull that's been more push and accidental pulls, Mark still cares for him anyways. Still feels taken care of and loved. Still wants to take care and to love.

Jongin opens his eyes, turns his head and smiles sideways at Mark.

Mark's face warms, and it isn't from his cold.

"You'll catch my cold if you stay here."

"I won't."

Jongin keeps the smile, eyes softening. Rice cakes under the sun. Malleable and bouncy. Will he be sticky if Mark reaches out and touch?

"Let hyung take care of you, Mark," Jongin murmurs. "Stop resisting."

Mark swallows around a lump in his throat, coughs once, twice.

"Sure, hyung."

Mark closes his eyes, and thinks of the impossibility of letting go. Accepts defeat as a continuation of loving, and of never receiving it back.

He'll make it, maybe, to the other side, with his heart still intact. 

-


	2. Jongin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The time we spend apart will teach us the true meaning of love." - Paper Cuts, EXO-CBX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics (italics) in this are from: [second hand heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zAnSr5N3c8E&ab_channel=BenHaenowVEVO)

-

_wait for me now_

_will you wait for me now?_

-

The hiccups from Haerin's bedroom alarm Jongin first. He gets up quickly, apologizing profusely to Yoora, who waves him off with a smile. By the time he reaches Haerin's door, her cries have turned into full-blown sobs and wails. Jongin knocks before pushing her door open, his heart breaks when he finds Haerin shaking under her blanket, pulled up to cover her head.

"Haerin-ah," Jongin says softly, reaching for her. "What's wrong?"

But Haerin doesn't answer, just continues crying. Jongin tugs at her blanket, and when she doesn't resist, he pulls it all the way off. Her tear-stricken face peeks out from under her blanket. Jongin wants to cry too.

"Haerin-ah, daddy can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," Jongin coaxes. "Please?"

Haerin shakes her head. "I want oppa," she sobs, small fist furiously rubbing her eyes. "Oppa."

"Haerin-ah," Jongin tries again, stroking her hair. "Oppa is busy. Daddy can help you. Please talk to me."

Haerin shakes her head and cries harder, turns around from Jongin and burrows into her pillow, clutching Bunny closer to her chest.

Jongin tries again, all variations of begging and coaxing and promising her to go to places she wanted to. But Haerin doesn't budge. Wouldn't talk to Jongin no matter what he does.

Jongin sighs, admits defeat when he sees one. He heads out and calls Mark, and when no one answers, goes to ring on his doorbell. No one answers either, so he tries the last place he knows Mark could be, he goes to knock on Minseok's door.

Conveniently, Mark is the one who opens the door. His hair sticks up adorably in places where it shouldn't, oversized shirt falling off his shoulder.

Mark yawns, scratching his belly. "Hyung," he greets, "'sup?"

"Haerin keeps asking for you," he says. Maybe a tad too desperate. "She won't stop crying."

Mark frowns. "Oh no." He pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose. "Hyung!" Mark calls out. "I'm going to Jongin-hyung's! I'll be back later."

Minseok replies with a distant _oy._

Mark shoos Jongin out, fishing out his phone, squinting when he sees Jongin’s missed calls.

"Oh you called? I'm sorry, I was helping Minseok-hyung with a project."

"Sorry," Jongin says weakly, opening his door. "I know it's over your hours--"

"Hey," Mark cuts him off, punching his shoulder and grinning. "I love Haerin, it's no big deal."

They enter Jongin's apartment, slips on their slippers, and Mark pauses on the doorway.

"You have company," Mark mutters, trying to straighten his hair and righting his shirt. He bows. "Hello."

Yoora quickly gets up and returns Mark's bow.

"Hello."

Jongin rubs the back of his neck. Somehow he's embarrassed, like he's being caught doing something he shouldn't have. He's not. They have a deadline tomorrow and he didn't want to leave Haerin alone for too long.

"Yeah, I still have work to do."

Mark hums. "I see."

Mark excuses himself from Yoora, and makes a beeline for Haerin's bedroom, Jongin following on his heels. He repeats the action Jongin did, knocking before pushing the door gently.

"Haerin," Mark calls out.

Jongin lingers on the doorway, not wanting to agitate his daughter. He watches Mark carefully sit on the edge of Haerin's small bed, gentle hands going to rub his daughter's back from outside the blanket.

"General," he says, "you asked for me?"

Haerin lowers the blanket, which in Jongin's absence had migrated over her head again, puffy eyes peeking over the top, and she sniffles, nodding. Mark smiles, opens his arms in a welcoming embrace. Haerin crawls into it, clinging to Mark like a koala, small arms wrapping around his neck, she buries her face there, hiccupping quietly.

"What's wrong, Rinnie?" Mark murmurs, rubbing her back.

Haerin shakes her head, and continues to sniffle into Mark's neck.

"Oh baby," he says, "there, there, it's okay, it's gonna be alright."

Mark's gentle tone soothes something inside Jongin too. He turns to look at Jongin, apologetic smile ready on his lips.

 _You can go_. He mouths at Jongin. Jongin feels something burn on the pit of his stomach. Disappointment, maybe. That his daughter would choose Mark over him, but relief, too, because Mark is here, because Mark is able to calm her.

Jongin closes the door to Mark humming a tune, and Haerin's breath calming.

-

Mark makes himself known to the living room after an hour, Jongin almost didn't catch him, his feet so quiet on the hardwood floor. Jongin looks up only because Mark gets close enough to Jongin, settling quietly on the armchair to his left.

Jongin continues typing on his laptop.

"Did she tell you what was bothering her?"

Mark pulls his feet up, tucks them under his chin. He likes to do that, Jongin notices. The action makes Mark's shorts slide down his thighs, exposing them. Jongin forces himself to look away, to focus on the screen in front of him. Words swimming in front of his eyes. He should get new glasses.

"No," Mark answers. "Tired herself out crying, passed out after you got out."

Jongin sighs, but makes himself smile. "Thank you, Mark. I don't know what I would do without you."

Mark picks up a stray paper from the edge of the table, holds it in front of his face. Jongin doesn't know what he's reading, or if he even understands corporate lingo at all.

"Where's your coworker?"

"She left," Jongin answers, hunches over the laptop.

Mark hums, and doesn't make any further comments. He lets the click-clack of his fingers against the keyboard fill the silence. Mark puts down the paper eventually, and abandons all shyness in favor of staring directly at Jongin.

"If you have something to say, you should say it," Jongin says, but he's smiling as he does it.

"You're a good dad, Jongin." Mark says quietly.

There's a sudden fist around his windpipe, arresting all breath from his lungs. Jongin stills. His hands pause, hovering above the keyboard. 

"You think so?" his voice is hoarse. He doesn't recognize it. Mark had said it before, months ago, when he was drunk. But it sounds different now that he's sober.

Mark puts a hand over his, his touch warm and familiar. Jongin turns his hand, lets their palms slide together, fingers tangling, intertwining. For a moment, Jongin lets himself want. Doesn't pull back from the warmth Mark offers. Jongin wonders what it would be like to pull Mark closer, to have Mark climb his lap and inside his arms. To have the comfort of his lips too, besides his hand.

Jongin blinks the images away, swallows against the lump in his throat. He lets go of Mark's hand, doesn't miss the way it still lingers after a while.

Mark's eyes soften at him, at his sudden silence, mouth curling up into a shy smile.

"I know so."

-

"Did Haerin really not tell you why she was upset yesterday?"

Jongin sets the mug of tea in front of Mark, who pulls it towards himself. He'd stayed after Jongin tucked Haerin in, falling into conversation about Mark's possible job applications. Jongin is sure Minseok knew better, but Mark had asked him, and he wants to help.

Mark glances away, worrying his bottom lip under his teeth.

"Well," he laughs nervously. Grimacing when he starts talking again. "Actually, um."

"Go on." Jongin sips his tea.

"Apparently a friend told her that you were going to get married to the, and I quote, _woman who went with you to pick her up_ and that her new mother was going to hate her and get you to hate her too, and you were going to leave her for her new mother."

Mark rushes through his words, not pausing for even one breath. He winces when he finishes, takes a calming sip of his tea.

Jongin pauses, he doesn't curse often but special occasions call for special measures.

" _What the fuck._ "

He must've looked quite scary because Mark flinched.

"I told her that her friend was lying, that you loved her very much and that you'd never leave her."

"Why didn't you tell me." 

"Haerinnie didn't want me to," Mark argues weakly, shoulders drooping. "She said she didn't want to make you sad."

Jongin doesn't answer him. On one hand it's important that Mark keeps Haerin's trust. On the other, it felt painful to know that his daughter was hurting because of some asshole kid's words.

"Well, thank you for telling me, Mark." Jongin sighs, picking on the tangerine peel. "I'll do something about it, but she won't know I know."

"Thank you, hyung. She seemed convinced when I last told her," he says. "But it'll be different coming from you."

-

The next night Haerin asks Jongin to read her Tintin.

As they settle in her bed, Jongin's arm around her, Jongin finds the bravery to speak up.

"Haerinnie, you know I love you very much, right?"

"I know." Haerin says.

"And nothing on this earth can take you away from me, you know that, right?"

Haerin stays quiet. Jongin kisses the top of her head, follows it with his hand.

"Even when you get married again?"

"Even then. I'm not going to get married to someone you don't like, Haerinnie." 

"Are you going to marry that woman you keep bringing home?"

Jongin closes the book and puts it down, choosing instead to sit up so he can look into Haerin's eyes.

"No, honey. We're just coworkers. We work together. I won't bring her home again if it upsets you."

Haerin nods. "It's okay, dad, work is important."

"But you're more important. I shouldn't be bringing home work anyways."

"Okay." Haerin answers after a while, voice small.

She doesn't seem convinced, and Jongin's heart drops to his stomach at the thought that he can't seem to make her see that.

"What's wrong baby?" He asks, "what are you thinking about?"

Haerin stares resolutely at the foot of her bed, fiddling with her blanket. "Dad," she finally says, "are you really going to marry the person I like?"

That's not exactly the way Jongin phrased it, but she's not wrong.

"Of course, but only if I like them too."

Haerin nods.

"Do you like Mark-oppa, then?"

Jongin doesn't like where this is going.

"Yes."

"I like him, too. Can you marry him, dad?"

"That's not--" Jongin trails off, searching to explain to his daughter that first, they're not _dating_ and second, even if they wanted to get married, they couldn't. "We're not together like that, baby."

"Oh." Haerin deflates.

"I'm--" Jongin swallows. "I'm not going to get married again anytime soon, okay baby?"

Haerin takes a beat too long to answer, but when she does, she just hugs Bunny closer and cuddles close to Jongin. Jongin takes whatever victory he can get.

"Okay," she says. "Okay."

-

"You don't think it's time you find someone new?"

Jongdae taps the end of his cigarette onto the square ashtray on the marble-top table. Turns his head and blows the smoke out. It's a nasty habit that Jongin never knew where he picked up. As far as he knew, Jongdae is the perfect son. The one who aced all his tests and ended up going to med school. And then he'd dropped in on Jongin's college dorm one day with a pack of cigs in his hands.

"You should stop smoking, hyung." Jongin says instead of answering.

"Why?" Jongdae takes another drag. "Because I'm a doctor?"

"Because if you don't stop, I'm never going to let you near Haerin again."

"Ouch." Jongdae pouts. He stares at the stick forlornly. He puts it off, though, smashing the half-lit bud.

Jongin grins. "Thank you."

"Anything if it means I get to see my favorite niece."

"She's your only niece."

"We don't know that," Jongdae says, lips curling up into a smirk. "Joohyun-noona might be pregnant again."

"For real?"

Jongdae nods. "Junmyeon's stressed about it."

"I imagine."

"Enough about Junmyeon," Jongdae cuts, nods at him. "You didn't answer my question."

Jongin fiddles with his thumb, draws his mug of coffee closer to him. Jongdae dragged him out to a café for lunch. One where people could smoke. Jongin was only partly kidding about not letting him see Haerin again. He never smoked around her, or in the house, or before meeting her.

"I don't know, hyung. I think it's too soon."

Jongin risks a glance at his older brother, and finds him smiling softly. He reaches forward to ruffle Jongin's hair, the way he used to when they were younger. When Jongin would cry because their mother wouldn't let him buy ice cream.

"It's been two years, Jongin-ah," Jongdae says softly. "It's okay if you want to date again."

Jongin doesn't answer. He doesn't think Jongdae knows what he's talking about. But Jongdae has always had the uncanny ability to see through his everything. It's no surprise that his hyung would discover something about him that even himself hasn't figured out yet.

"You have someone, don't you? Someone you like." It's a statement. Not a question. Jongdae cradles his chin with a hand. Stares at Jongin like he's 16 and is telling him about his first crush all over again.

"Somewhat." Jongin hesitates. "I don't know."

Jongdae raises an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

Jongin nods.

"You like her then. Him," Jongdae adds in a rush. "Them."

Jongin doesn't correct him. He picks at imaginary dirt under his fingernails.

"What should I do, hyung?"

Jongdae sighs, leans back on his chair and crosses his arms. "You always do this thing where you doubt your feelings for people."

"Do I?"

"I think by now, you've grown enough to know when your feelings run deep, Jonginnie. You haven't told me anything about this person, so I wouldn't know. But I think you're ready," Jongdae says. "You haven't told me how much you miss Soojung yet, not since new year."

Jongin's blood runs cold, his first instinct is to grab the two rings dangling from around his neck.

Jongdae sees him panic, and immediately reaches for Jongin's hand. "Hey, calm down, it's not a bad thing I swear."

"I don't--" Jongin stutters, lets his hand be pulled back down to the table, bile rising at the back of his throat. "I don't want to forget her, hyung."

"And you won't," Jongdae says, "Haerin's her kid. I don't think you could ever forget that."

Jongin nods, tries to breathe through the vice on his lungs. Jongdae pulls his hand away slowly, like he's afraid Jongin might shatter into pieces if he does. Jongin might as well.

"But you're smiling more, and whenever you talk about Haerin it's less sad and more... more love. Not that you don't love her before," Jongdae quickly adds. "But Haerin will always remind you of Soojung. When you talked about her, before, you always smile but you look sad at the same time. Now it's like--you see her as she is. Your daughter too, and you have always loved her. Just now it's not as sad."

"I'm--" Jongin gulps. "I didn't know--hyung--have I--have I been bad to her?"

Jongdae shakes his head. "We would've done something if you were being a poor father to her."

"I don't--I don't know what to do with this, hyung. I don't--" Jongin runs his hand through his hair.

Jongdae moves to sit next to him on the long couch. Loops his arms around Jongin and squeezes him until it's easier to breathe again.

"It's alright, Nini," Jongdae whispers, "it's alright. You can feel happy. You can love again. You can be loved again. You deserve to."

"Yeah," Jongin breathes out. His chest is tight, tight, tight. One day he might believe him. One day. "Yeah, okay." 

-

He gets home late. It feels like that's all he ever do these days. When he opens the door to his apartment, Mark isn't there to greet him. Just his laptop open on the coffee table, the TV playing a documentary in a low volume.

Jongin heads over to Haerin's room immediately, and what he finds there makes him pause, feet stuck where he stands on the doorway.

Jongdae's words from lunch ring in his ears.

Mark’s curled up around his daughter, snoring softly into her hair. Haerin has a hand fisted into the material of his shirt, like she’s afraid to let go. The other holding her bunny doll tightly. Jongin looks up, looks around at the glow-in-the-dark stars they’d put up for Haerin last month.

Mark is like a star, the north star. Guiding.

Jongin thinks about stars, and what it means to dream of having them.

-

The days nearing the anniversary of his wife's death will never get better.

Haerin gets nightmares, and it hits harder the day before the date.

"Haerinnie," Jongin pleads. 

She hasn't stop crying, terrible sobs that wrack through her. Punches Jongin's gut with every single one. Jongin has tried everything, carrying her around. Coaxes her to tell him what's wrong with chocolates and promises of playdates. But nothing works.

"Oppa," she croaks out, rubbing a small fist over her red eyes. "I want oppa."

Jongin's desperate enough that he calls Mark right away.

"Hyung?" Mark answers, voice groggy with sleep. It's past midnight. Jongin chews on his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but could you come over for a while?"

Mark agrees without much protests, quipping a "be right there" followed by Jongin's doorbell ringing not five minutes after.

He makes to leave Haerin so he can let Mark in but Haerin cries harder.

"Don't go," she wails.

Jongin has no choice but to scoop her up in his arms, rocking her slowly as he struggles with the door.

Mark greets him with a wide eyed stare, hair sticking up everywhere, his shirt almost falling off a shoulder. He zeroes in on Haerin right away, blinking at the sight of her hiccupping into Jongin's neck.

"Haerin," Mark says softly, immediately closing the door behind him, a hand already reaching out to stroke her hair.

Haerin lifts her head up, sees Mark and her sobbing slows into sniffles.

Jongin kisses her hair, rubs her back in circles. "Are you ready to sleep now?"

Haerin turns watery eyes on Jongin, and then back to Mark. "Oppa will come too?"

Jongin looks at Mark in question.

"Yes," Mark says hastily. "Of course, Haerinnie."

"And daddy too?" Haerin asks, voice small.

"Of course, baby." He kisses her forehead again just to make sure she knows how much he loves her.

Jongin sends what he hopes is a grateful smile Mark's way, and tilts his head to the direction of the bedroom. He bypasses Haerin's completely, and hears the stutter in Mark's steps when he opens the door to his own bedroom.

"Haerin's bed is too small for all three of us," Jongin explains, setting Haerin down on the bed. She crawls to the middle and snuggles her way under the comforter, looking up at the both of them with wet, red eyes.

Jongin glances at Mark. "Do you mind?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all, hyung. You guys seem to be having a tough time." Mark says softly.

Jongin doesn't correct him, goes to turn off the main light, leaving the room illuminated only by his bedside lamp. He hears Haerin's soft "oppa" and the bed rustling. When he turns around, Mark is already on his side, holding Haerin's hand in his.

Jongin's gut clenches, his throat feels dry. He doesn't know how to feel. The barrage of warmth and relief that attacks him is sudden, so is the following guilt.

He climbs into bed on the other side of Haerin, moulding himself protectively around her small frame. There's barely any sound coming out of her now, exhaustion from crying finally catching up to her. 

Jongin stares at Mark over the top of his daughter's head, the way his hand closes around Haerin's. Haerin's soft breathing.

Their eyes meet, and Mark smiles, and it's too much and not enough at the same time.

"Sorry," Jongin mouths, "I'm sorry."

Mark shakes his head. "Don't be," he whispers. "I want to help."

Mark closes his eyes, a picture perfect of calm. He looks like he fits there on Jongin's bed, holding his daughter's hand. Jongin vividly wants to let go, wants to let whatever ram battering away at his walls to succeed. Wants to let himself fall and love and be loved.

Jongin closes his eyes, and doesn't dream.

-

The anniversary falls on a Saturday. Jongin goes with Jongdae and Haerin to her grave. Jongdae offers to drive, going as far as to pick them up from their apartment. Haerin is silent through the drive, the letter Jongin had helped her write for her mother clutched close to her chest. They stop at a flower shop, where Jongin had ordered her wife's favorite bouquet of white roses and daisies.

He lets Haerin sit near her mother's tomb, puts the bouquet and letter on top of her grave. They pray, closing their eyes. And Jongdae drags her away afterwards to wait in the car.

Jongin is finally alone, left with only his thoughts as company.

"Hello, Soojung-ah," Jongin says, hands shoved in his pocket. Haerin's letter sits on top of the bouquet, Soojung's name written messily on top in her messy scrawl. Jongin stares at it. At her tombstone. She would scold him for slouching like this, hit his back playfully and tell him to _straighten up, Jongin._

Jongin smiles at the memory. "It's a bright day, Soojung-ah. You would like it. It's like a park in here. Smells like grass." He crinkles his nose.

Jongin sighs, kicks at the soil under his dress shoes. "I miss you," Jongin whispers. "Every damn day."

Jongin blinks against the sting in his eyes, it doesn't work. His cheeks are wet, Jongin rubs a fist over his eyes.

He feels tight, tight, tight. All nerves and wires tripping over each other. Rendering his chest muscles useless, and he can't breathe. Jongin inhales. Shudders. Laughs a laugh that sounds more like a cry than anything.

"God, you would tease me for crying."

Jongin lets the quiet consume him, lets the heavy feeling wash over him. Jongin misses her dearly. Misses her laughter, her smile. The smell of her hair.

"Our daughter is so smart. She's like you. She doesn't like beansprouts and she's always ordering me around." Jongin says.

"I..." Jongin trails off. Bunches his hand into fists in his pocket. "I found someone, Soojung-ah. Someone I might be with." He stutters. Rattles through an exhale. "He's so kind, Soojung-ah, so kind, and so bright, and he loves our daughter _so_ much."

Jongin chuckles. Takes a deep breath. "You would like him, I think."

Soojung would. They both have a way about them. Of pulling Jongin out of his own head. A cloud of happy that surrounds them wherever they go. Jongin loved that about her, loves that about Mark. Soojung would've gotten splendidly well with Mark.

Jongin takes a step and rests a hand on top of the warm stone, closes his eyes in one last prayer to god.

"Goodbye, Soojung-ah," he whispers. "I hope you're resting well, over there."

By the time Jongin reaches the car, he makes sure he doesn't look like he's cried his heart out. They eat lunch at a McDonalds, and Haerin brightens up enough to chatter Jongdae's ear off about things she learned from her uncle Baekhyun.

"Haerinnie," Jongdae whines. "I'm still your favorite uncle though, right?"

Haerin looks genuinely confused. "I have to think about it, uncle," she says seriously. "Uncle Baekhyun gives me lollipops."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Jongin says. "What about Mark-oppa?"

Haerin scrunches her nose adorably. "That's different, oppa is my favorite."

Jongdae perks up, sends Jongin a raised eyebrow, which Jongin studiously avoids.

"I see. But you still like daddy better than Mark-oppa right?" Jongin asks.

Haerin's telltale quiet is enough sign for Jongdae to start laughing. Loud and annoying.

-

Their neighbors know to leave them well enough alone when they get home, but Jongin can't help but crave Mark's company. The calming effect he has on Jongin is indisputable, and he finds himself calling Mark up after Haerin falls asleep, asking him to come over for late coffee.

Mark shows up with a jar of cookies in his hands. "Baekhyun-hyung," he shrugs.

Jongin lets him in. Mark knows his way enough to get them started on tea, soon he's sitting across Jongin with the same green mug that he always uses cradled close.

Mark hums after he takes a sip. "I like this tea, hyung."

"Earl grey?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think you can call that tea, Mark." Jongin nods at Mark's mug, where the liquid is almost a creamy beige, with how much milk and sugar Mark always put in his.

Mark flushes. "Shut up."

That startles a snort out of Jongin. He feels the sadness and tension of the whole day dissipate out of him. Nothing exists beyond the moment. Just Mark and his affinity for sweet milk-teas.

"How's internship-hunting going?" Jongin settles for a neutral topic.

Mark grins at him, shows all of his teeth. The sharpness of his cheekbones goes against the curl of hair over his ears, the soft hoodie he's wearing. Something aches inside Jongin's chest. Dangerously close to want and affection.

Guilt crawls up from the pits of his stomach to throw a net over his desires, pull them back down and chain it to the bottom of his stomach. Jongin lets the storm of emotions rage inside his chest until it quiets down. Drown it in the citric smell of earl grey.

Mark's eyes sparkle under the bright lighting of his kitchen. Like universes combined. Jongin takes a shuddering breath. Gives Mark a small smile.

"It's going great, actually," Mark replies. "Someone offered me an a position."

-

"We don't get a lot of time like this, do we, Jongin-ah?" Baekhyun hums from where he's stirring custard on the stove. It smells delicious. Like the vanilla beans Baekhyun scraped and threw in there. "You hang out with Minseok all the time, but not with me."

Jongin lets the _tap tap tap_ of the knife fill the silence for a while. "You could always join us in the gym, hyung."

"Ha ha. Funny." Baekhyun deadpans, patting him on the shoulder. Jongin fakes a pout. "I'll stick with my pilates, thank you."

Jongin snickers, but dutifully goes back to chopping dark chocolate. Somehow he'd been roped into making pie with Baekhyun while Minseok plays with Haerin. Their lively chatter streams in steadily from the living room.

They put the pie crust in the oven while the custard cools, and Baekhyun and Jongin starts cleaning up.

“Jonginnie, I…” Baekhyun starts, scraping dough off of a spatula next to him. “I know you’re a good person, but you can’t keep stringing Mark along.”

Jongin’s throat tightens, he straightens up, stops rinsing, letting the water run. He's wasting it, no doubt, but Jongin can't find it in him to care. Heart loud in his ears.

The statement is so sudden, comes out of _nowhere_ that it takes Jongin a while to figure out how to reply to _that._

“I’m not stringing him along, hyung," is what he settles with.

Baekhyun reaches sideways to twist the faucet close. Sighs. “I know, you probably don’t mean it, but try to see from his perspective," he says.

Jongin doesn't answer, so Baekhyun barrels on. "When the time comes and he inevitably burst, will you let him down easy? Be gentle to him for me?”

“I…” Jongin trails off, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly.

Baekhyun dries his own hands on his apron, and turns fully to face Jongin, arms crossed in front of his chest. Jongin had never been scared of Baekhyun since the first time they met. How can he? When Baekhyun is so friendly and nice. Especially to his daughter. But right now, he feels like he deserves the hard frown Baekhyun is directing at him.

“This is probably way outside of what’s appropriate," he says, "but I love that boy like he’s my own, and I don’t want him to get hurt, Nini.”

“He won't, hyung." Jongin swallows. "I won’t.”

Baekhyun sags and sighs. Like he's given up on something. Jongin hates it immediately. He turns back on his task, and places the scraped off spatula and bowl on Jongin's part of the sink. Where Jongin is supposed to be soaping and rinsing them.

"I trust you, Jongin. I just," Baekhyun pauses. "I just wish things were different."

Jongin doesn't answer, chooses to focus on his nails instead. Keeps quiet as Baekhyun leaves the sink and putters around. He stays still for a while, until he makes sure he can breathe again without shaking, and turns on the water.

"Oh, we're out of whipped cream," Baekhyun comments, closing the fridge door. "Does Haerinnie like whipped cream?" 

The intensity of the moment pops, Jongin lets out a slow breath. "Yeah," he says, proud that his voice doesn't shake."Do we need whipped cream for this?"

"Well yeah, it's pie." Baekhyun smiles at him again, eyes crinkling, and pats his shoulder. Relief hits Jongin like a train.

"Babe," Baekhyun yells out. "Minseok-hyung!"

Minseok lifts his head to look at Baekhyun. "Yes, love?"

"Could you run to the store and get us some whipped cream, please? The liquid one. You know the one I like."

"Okay," Minseok says, "sure."

Haerin perks up, whispers something to Minseok that he replies with a nod and a bright grin. He finds her pattering to him and latching on his pant leg.

"Dad," she looks up at Jongin, "I want to go with uncle."

Jongin wipes his hand on his apron to pat her head. "Okay, don't give him too much trouble."

"Come on, princess." Minseok pockets his keys and holds out his hand. Haerin takes his hand, chattering away about buying ice cream and snacks as they walk out the hallway. Jongin hears the sound of the door being closed, and then there's only him and Baekhyun left.

"Jonginnie," Baekhyun says, "let's take a break. I'll make tea."

They chat while waiting for Minseok to come home, sipping tea and talking about everything and nothing at all. Baekhyun doesn't bring Mark up again and Jongin is grateful. Jongin is still nervous, but Baekhyun seems to bulldoze through the tension with a single-minded focus, determined to make things not awkward between them.

"So I told the neurology resident that this was _my_ patient, right?" Baekhyun snorted. "He wouldn't accept it and--" Baekhyun's words are cut off by the sound of the front door opening noisily.

He cocks up an eyebrow at Jongin, the meaning which Jongin understood perfectly. "That's fast," Baekhyun remarks.

But instead of Minseok and his ash-white hair, Jongdae barges in, his scrubs peeking from under his leather jacket, a backpack slung over one shoulder. There are bags under his eyes, and a frown on his face. He must've been on the night shift again.

"Jongin, why the _fuck_ don't you ever pick up your phone, Jesus." Is the first thing Jongdae says, stopping at the head of the dining table.

Baekhyun's visibly freezes, a hand hovering in mid-air. Nobody says a word.

"This is not why I gave you the keys to my home." Jongin sighs, getting into motion first. "Sit down, hyung."

Jongdae doesn't move, slinging his bag to the front and rummaging through it. "No, I'll be fast."

There's silence that stretches between them, and in the short while that Jongin had known Baekhyun, he'd always had to fill silences with sound.

"So you're the other doctor uncle?" Baekhyun pipes up.

Jongdae pauses, giving Baekhyun a glance. "The other?" Jongdae smirks. "I'm the _original_ doctor uncle."

Baekhyun grins. Boxy and friendly. Spikes receding to accommodate Jongdae's. "Byun Baekhyun, nice to meet you."

"Kim Jongdae. Likewise." Jongdae pulls something out of his bag.

"I just came by to give you this," Jongdae drops an envelope to the table. Shiny with silver lettering. "Jongyeon-noona is getting married, mom wants me to physically give you the invitation."

Jongin picks it up, and turns the envelope around in his hand. "Thanks, hyung."

"I'm going now." Jongdae walks around the table to pat Jongin on the back, but his eyes linger on Baekhyun. Jongin knows Jongdae is open with his attraction. But Baekhyun is as good as _married_. Jongin bristles.

Jongdae must've noticed, because he averts his eyes, thumps Jongin on the back again. "Okay, tiger, I'll see you."

Jongdae tips his head towards Baekhyun. "Baekhuyn-ssi, nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Jongin gets up to walk Jongdae out, they reach the front door when Jongdae turns around. "So _that's_ your other neighbor."

"Yep."

"He's hot."

"I'm aware."

"What's his number?"

"Goodbye, Jongdae."

When Jongin walks back to the dining room, Baekhyun is staring emptily to space.

"So that's your brother."

"Yes, second oldest."

Baekhyun seems lost in thought. "I see."

-

“I understand,” Jongin sighs into the receiver. His boss is still talking to him in a panicked voice, begging Jongin to go to their office on his day off _again_. For the nth time in a month. He dials Mark's number right after, staring at Haerin playing with her legos on the ground. Something heavy settles down in his stomach.

Mark picks up on the first ring.

“Mark, could you babysit today? I had some urgent office stuff to be taken care of.. and.. yeah, yeah, okay." 

"Haerin," Jongin says, crouching down and fixing her cape, he hates doing this. Hates leaving her on a weekend. "I have to go take care of something for work. Do you mind spending a couple of hours with Mark-oppa? I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise."

Haerin frowns at him. "You're always working."

"I'm sorry," Jongin says, "just this once I swear."

"That's what you said last week." And then she turns around from him.

Haerin continues to pout, sulkily playing with her toys until the door bell rings. Then it's her who's dashing to the door, opening it before Jongin could even get a word in.

Mark grins. “Haerinnie! Did you miss me?”

“I saw you yesterday,” Haerin says, but she grabs Mark's hand and starts to pull him inside, barely giving Mark enough time to change into slippers.

Jongin leans on the entrance to the living room as they settle to play, Haerin shoving a teddy bear into Mark's arms. "I'll be going then," he says.

"Okay," Mark says. "Haerin say bye."

Haerin looks up at Jongin with the blankest expression she could muster. "Bye, dad."

Mark sends him a questioning look. Jongin suppresses a sigh. He walks over to press a kiss to her head anyways, pats her head and tells her he'll be back soon.

On his way to his office, he doesn't stop thinking about her blank stare.

-

The first thing that greets Jongin when he enters the living room is silence. The curtains are open, bathing the room in soft, afternoon light. It's gotten warmer these days that they can open the balcony door instead of putting on the thermostat all the time. It's open now, wind blowing the curtain in.

Mark and Haerin lie curled up against each other on the sofa, the rise and fall of their chests matching pace. Jongin treads on light feet, places his bag and the plastic bag of cake by the television table and locks the sliding balcony door close.

He folds down in front of them both, staring at Mark's face, his mouth wide open in his sleep, and Haerin's arm curled around her bunny and Mark. Something unspools inside Jongin, something close like fondness and affection. He rests his forehead on the edge of the seat, takes a deep breath in. Breathe out.

This is something he could have everyday, if he was brave enough.

Mark in his house, holding his daughter close. Haerin clutching onto him. Liking him enough to look for him when she's upset. Jongin thinks of Mark's lingering touches, lingering stares.

This is something he's allowed to want.

Jongin closes his eyes, takes one last deep breath, and goes to make dinner.

-

Haerin squirms throughout dinner, keeps making eye contact with Mark, who just nods at her every time. It's just the three of them tonight, Baekhyun and Minseok out on a date. By the time dessert rolls around, she's squirmy enough that Jongin is also bubbling over with curiosity.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Haerin?"

Haerin frowns at the cake Jongin got her, and looks to Mark for encouragement, which he seems to supply plenty. She slides down her chair, waddles down to the refrigerator. She opens it and pulls out a plate covered with a napkin.

How Jongin didn't notice that when he started on dinner, he doesn't know. Haerin shuffles closer to him, stands tall in front of him, mouth set in a determined line. She thrusts the plate to Jongin's face.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you, daddy," Haerin speaks, voice ringing clear and loud. 

"Haerin-an," Mark whispers loudly, a hand cupping his mouth, "the napkin."

Haerin blinks and blows on the napkin in a futile attempt to dislodge it. Jongin chuckles, takes it away for her. He drops the napkin very slowly on the table. On the plate there's a flower-shaped cookie clumsily piped with icing sugar. It's a mix of red and green.

"Oh, Haerin, honey." Jongin takes the plate and sets it aside, bending down to one knee to scoop her into her arms, holding her tight. His heart feels so full. "It's okay, I'm sorry, too. Daddy is sorry."

"Promise not to fight again," Mark adds softly.

Jongin glances at Mark, stroking Haerin's hair. "We promise not to fight again, right Haerinnie?"

"I promise," Haerin replies, and then she buries herself in Jongin's arms again.

-

"Was that your idea?"

Jongin hands Mark another plate. The cakes and the cookies are long gone. Eaten as they chat over a cup of tea.

"Oh, no." Mark shakes his head, grinning. "Baekhyun-hyung called us over because he was making sugar cookies for the paediatric ward, and Haerin saw that flower and said 'uncle can I make this one for dad.'" Mark continues, making his best imitation of Haerin's pitchy voice.

Jongin chuckles. He lets silence consume them for a while.

"She was really upset huh," Jongin comments.

Mark shrugs, takes another plate from Jongin's hands and starts drying them. "Not really, she was mad at herself for being mad at you."

It's Jongin's turn to shake his head. "Children, amazing creatures."

Mark laughs. "They sure are."

-

As the night wears on, Mark helps put Haerin to bed. Her smile seems to double in size when he and Mark tag-team the bedtime story, giggling and squealing excitedly. Haerin passes out like a light afterwards, clutching Bunny close to her chest. They stay in the doorway, watching her.

"She loves you," Mark says softly. "She misses you."

"Yeah." Jongin swallows. "Yeah."

 _Do you_ , Jongin wants to ask, _do you miss me_.

Jongin fingers the rings around his neck. "I'll make more time for her."

Mark's hand brushes his shoulder, and feels grounding, tethering. Jongin lets the feeling swallow him whole. Lets the blanket of security hold him close, for once.

"That's good, hyung," he says, "that's really good."

Mark takes his hand back, Jongin wishes he hadn't.

Jongin doesn't know what to say to that, he tries for a smile instead, turning around to leave. But the same hand wraps around his wrist and before he knows it Mark's arms are around his waist, and Mark is pulling him close for a hug.

Jongin doesn't know what to do, he wraps tentative arms around Mark's shoulders, pulling him close. Mark is the one who moves, molding himself against Jongin, hooking a chin over his shoulder. He sags, sighing contently.

"You're doing a good job with her," Mark reminds him again. "Don't worry about it."

Jongin tries to say something, but nothing comes out of his constricted throat. Mark is so warm against him. So real and alive. Grounding, tethering.

"You think so?" Is all he manages. Whispered into Mark's ear.

Mark's hold tightens around him. Jongin wants to cry. "I know so."

-

"Hello?"

_"Jongin, sorry for calling on a Sunday, but do you think you can come into the office for a while? There's been some miscalculations--"_

"Sorry, sir," Jongin cuts him off. "I don't think I can."

There's a pause from the other line.

_"Alright. Thank you."_

His boss hangs up without saying another word. Jongin shrugs.

"Haerin," he calls for her.

Haerin perks up, a barbie in one hand and Bunny on the other.

Jongin smiles at her. "You want to go watch a movie?"

-

"I'm sorry that you have to be out with us on a Saturday."

Mark smothers a yawn with the back of his right hand, and hits Jongin's shoulder with the other. It's a pretty big yawn, scrunching up his face and pushing up the bags under his eyes. Jongin wonders if it's from pulling an all-nighter studying or gaming with Donghyuck.

"I told you I didn't mind," Mark grins up at him. Still sleepy around the edges, eyes red and watery as he blinks them open. "I want to be here for Haerin's first steps, _on ice._ "

Jongin can't help a smile at that. On the rink, Haerin barely pays attention to them both, a frown fixed on the ice below her. The instructor encourages her with gentle tones. She slides forward by a centimeter, wobbles on her skates, and pitches forward.

Jongin has a terrifying flash of image of skin scraped raw and barely notices himself standing up from their bench to grab the bar, the cold only registering when the instructor catches Haerin and she turns around to flash him a reassuring smile.

"Doing great general!" Mark hollers, suddenly next to him. Several moms turn their heads at the sudden noise. Jongin doesn't bow around sheepishly only because the expression on their faces said _pity, first time?_ rather than annoyance.

Haerin lets go of the instructor's hands very briefly to give them a wave, little hand going to and fro in the pink mitten Jongin's gotten her for her birthday last year. The twin braids down her head shake a little. She's smiling so wide it almost erases Jongin's worry completely. Almost.

"Doing good baby," he says. If Mark hears the slight strain on his voice he doesn't comment on it, but his smile does widen. "Proud of you."

That makes Mark snort, shoulder bumping with Jongin's, hands clasped in front of him and making a decent force. Jongin doesn't budge, though. "Helicopter dad," he mutters under his breath.

Jongin sighs. "Not a single word."

"She's doing great, hyung. Look at her." Mark nods at Haerin. The cold barely seems to get to Haerin at all. Even without a jacket, only clad in a pair of purple leggings and matching long-sleeve purple shirt she'd pulled on first thing this morning. Deeming it the only worthy outfit for ice-skating.

"I suppose," Jongin replies. He unsticks his fingers, folds them inside each other to warm them up. Haerin does seem to be having fun. He'd barely pay attention to Mark and him, even though she'd whined all morning to get Mark to come with them to her first ice-skating lesson.

"Oh, here." Mark takes one of Jongin's hands from where he'd been blowing on it and slides it inside the pocket of his bomber. His fingertips graze the inside of Jongin's palm. Jongin shivers. Can't unstick his eyes from where his hand disappears and intertwines with Mark's.

He looks up to meet Mark's eyes, and Mark just grins at him.

Jongin swallows.

"Warm." Mark chuckles.

"Uh," Jongin stammers, heat crawling up his face and definitely not down his arm. Instead of pulling his hand away like he's supposed to (they're in _public,_ goddammit, Jongin can't believe he's letting this happen), he raises his other hand. "What about this one, though?" He asks weakly.

Mark turns his head away from Jongin, scratches the back of his neck with an index finger, drawing Jongin's eyes to the slenderness of it. For the first time Jongin notices the redness he's trying to hide on his cheek, and on top of his ears. Jongin's heart trips out of their own beat. Mark clears his throat.

"I guess you'd have to warm that one up on your own," he murmurs, fixing his gaze back to the center of the ring.

"I--"

The words he's about to say are cut off by Haerin's loud squealing. Jongin pulls his hand away to lean forward on the bar again, looking back just in time to catch Haerin successfully glide her way from a cone to her instructor. She twists her body to look at them, throwing them an excited, red-cheeked smile.

"Did you see that?" She shouts. "Dad! Mark-oppa! Did you guys see that?"

Pride swells in Jongin's chest, makes his eyes sting. That's his kid, that is. He cups a hand around his mouth. "We did baby," he shouts back, "we did."

-

"My world-champion figure skater," Jongin coos, pressing another kiss on top of Haerin's head.

She makes a noise of disgust and tries to move away, but still giggles when Jongin puts a hand over his heart and coos again. "Olympic gold-medalist."

"Dad, stop," she whines.

"You were pretty cool though, general," Mark offers, leaning across the table. "You have the makings of greatness in you," he intones.

"Cool," Haerin parrots. Ruins the effect completely by sticking to Jongin's side like a baby koala, sticking her head under Jongin's arm and clutching at Jongin's jacket, swinging her feet underneath her. "Do you think I'm cool, Mark-oppa?"

"The coolest!" Mark answers, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "We're cool beans, remember?"

"Yeah," Haerin grins, "coolest."

Haerin bursts into a fit of giggles for some unknown reason. Mark just waggles his eyebrows at Jongin when he looks to him for an answer, confirming once again that it is in fact a running joke between the two of them. A meme of sorts that Jongin can't really relate to, not knowing the context.

But instead of feeling jealous, Jongin finds himself hopelessly endeared.

-

"Do you think dad is cool, oppa?" Haerin asks, stabbing the cookies n' cream double scoop in front of her with more conviction than strictly necessary.

Mark notices that too, his hands going out to catch any stray bits of ice cream flying around. "Of course," he answers, lowering his hands back once Haerin manages to get a spoonful and jabs it inside her mouth. "He's the coolest, too. Because he's your dad."

"But do you think he's cool beans?" Haerin asks, straightening up, abandoning her ice cream in favor of grilling Mark. "Do you think he's cool beans, oppa?"

Mark meets Jongin's eyes. Jongin feels like a deer caught in headlights. Like he's not supposed to hear Mark's answer.

But Mark's smile softens with his eyes, turns private and charged with hidden things Jongin would like to uncover, would like to be privy to.

"Of course," he says softly. Too soft for an answer for a kid. Too _loaded_.

Jongin's breath hitch.

Mark averts his gaze, looks down at his own bowl of ice cream instead. "He's cool beans too," he says quietly.

-

"Hyung, I think..." Jongin trails off. "I think I'm ready."

The grin Jongdae gives him is huge, and the hand on his shoulder feels like acceptance, the hug he envelopes Jongin in feels like moving forward. "I'm glad, Jongin-ah," he says, "I'm glad."

Jongin takes a shuddering breath, thinks about easy smiles and warm hands, and finds himself infinitely glad, too.

-

In a way it was inevitable that they fall together. That the rising tide of Jongin's affection towards Mark would overspill, steep into the air and mold their togetherness into existence.

Mark looks like he belongs there between Jongin's yellow and red pillows, looks comfortable, familiar in his hoodie and glasses. He fits there, in Jongin's couch, fits in his life, in Haerin's life, fits everywhere.

He'd asked, that's the tipping point. He'd asked if Haerin would need new skates, and if it was a good idea to get her a pair _now_ when she's still going to grow so much more.

Jongin hadn't been able to answer. Had only been able to stare.

"Hyung?"

He'd asked, that's the thing.

Affection surges within Jongin, fondness and warmth spreading to his fingertips and pushing him forwards. Erases all of his doubts and pulls Mark towards him. They'd collided in a mess of lips and limbs, Jongin too eager and too _fond_.

The leftover bitterness of the English breakfast stays at the back of Jongin's throat, but Mark tastes sweet. Like sugar and earl grey, and a bit of the watermelon candy he'd been sucking on earlier.

Mark gasps softly into the kiss, Jongin's name a whispered reverence across his lips. Jongin takes it, takes it all. Pushes Mark down with hands on his waist. Hovers close.

He fits. Fits against Jongin, fingers winding easily around Jongin's neck.

Jongin pulls away first, looks down at Mark. At the stars spilled in his eyes. 

"We should--we should talk," Mark says, breathless. Flush high and pretty atop his cheeks. Jongin likes it. Likes that he puts it there.

"Yeah." Jongin's voice doesn't sound like his, a little bit too strained. Too high, too breathy. He likes that even more. "Let's talk."

-

"I think it's obvious that I have feelings for you."

The hitch in Mark's breath is barely noticeable if you weren't looking for it. Jongin was. Is delighted by it. By the reactions he can elicit from him.

"I didn't know," Mark says softly, pulling his sleeves over his fingers. "I thought you didn't feel anything for me."

"Well," Jongin says, "I do."

Mark smiles at him again, reaches for Jongin's hand. Plays with it. Slips his fingers between Jongin's. Makes a pleased noise when they fit.

"What--what should we do, hyung? What do you want to do?"

Want you. Jongin wants to say, staring at their joined hands. Want all of you. In our lives. Forever.

The intensity of his feelings shock him, and Jongin balks. Blinks the way the image of another pair of rings.

"Why don't we take this slow?" He finds himself saying. "See where this goes? Just... let it happen."

"Just let it happen," Mark murmurs. He nods at Jongin, smile mellowing out, softening. "Okay," he says, and leans in for another kiss.

Jongin can't help the niggling thought that he's making a mistake, but it's erased the moment Mark pushes him down on the couch and hovers above him. Pressing close to him. Lips soft but insistent.

All he can think about, as he loops his hands around Mark's neck, is Mark, Mark, Mark.

-

Nothing changes, much. Except that when Mark leaves at night, he lingers so he can kiss Jongin goodnight. Sometimes he stays longer, after Haerin's fallen asleep in her room. Just the two of them, on Jongin's couch, watching bad TV and talking in low voices. His head in Mark's lap and Mark's hand in his hair.

It's nice, but doesn't quiet satisfy the longing inside Jongin. The one telling him he needs more. Wants more.

"Mark," Jongin grabs Mark's face between his hands.

Mark smiles down at him, cheek squished up. He's so cute. Jongin wants everything.

He sits up, rearranges himself until he has both knees on the sides of Mark's lap. Traps him there where he's looking at Jongin with a hot gaze and hooded eyes. It's Mark who closes the gap between them, tugs Jongin down and licks into his mouth. His hands wander up Jongin's back, teeters down his side, and stops at Jongin's ass, squeezing.

Jongin gasps into the kiss. Stops to press his forehead against Mark's.

"Mark." He giggles. He feels bolds. Brave. Stupid with want and giddy with affection. He grinds down, pushing against Mark.

Mark takes his lips again, pushing a hand up Jongin's shirt and touching heated skin. Jongin burns. Wants to.

"Mark," he whispers, hands clenching on Mark's shoulders. "Not now. Haerin."

Mark pulls away, stares at Jongin's lips. "Okay," he says, licking his own. "Let me kiss you, though."

He topples Jongin over and climbs over him, slotting their mouths together again.

"Stay over," Jongin whispers when they break for air. "Please?"

Mark stares at Jongin in disbelief. Heat crawls up Jongin's neck. He clears his throat.

"I mean just sleeping."

Mark smothers his laugh against Jongin's lips. It trips Jongin's heart over. He hasn't felt this giddy since forever.

"Okay," Mark says between kisses. "Okay."

-

"Will you be okay on your own?"

Haerin looks close to rolling his eyes. Jongin really has to figure out where she's learning that. Mark certainly doesn't do that. Maybe Donghyuck.

"I'm a big girl, dad. I'll be fine." She puts a small hand on his shoulder.

Jongin crouches down. "Still, I worry." He pulls Haerin into another hug, a longer one, sways her left and right until she's whining for him to let go.

"I'll miss you," Jongin says when he lets her go, faking a pout. "I'll miss you a lot."

Haerin shuffles on his feet, looks up at Mark next to Jongin. "Mark-oppa, you'll take care of daddy when I'm gone, right?"

Mark takes it in stride, not an ounce of surprise in his face when he joins them. All sincere words and set mouth. "Of course, Haerinnie. I'll take good care of your dad."

"Good," Haerin nods, coddled by Mark's words. She goes in to get a hug from Mark, short arms wrapping around his neck briefly. "I'll be back soon."

She scurries off to her friends, purple bag bouncing behind her. The sun's out early today, making the day warm. It'll be a good trip for her. He sighs as she boards the school's minivan, waving at her as it drives away.

"Her first overnight school trip," Mark muses. "Look at you, not being a helicopter parent."

Jongin shivers slightly inside his coat. "Shut it," he replies weakly. "Like _you're_ not worried about her."

Mark presses his shoulder against Jongin's, his hum reverberating through Jongin. "Oh I am, believe me." Mark's hand sneaks under his coat, tiptoes around Jongin's waist, settling around him. "But I'm glad that we can finally have some time alone."

For some godawful reason, Jongin blushes.

-

Jongin crowds Mark against the door of his apartment once it closes. Breathes in the scent of him, clean cotton and detergent. He burrows in, presses close, claims Mark's mouth as his own.

Jongin distantly hears the clatter of keys falling to the floor, barely registers anything else but Mark's hands on his waist. The heat of him. Hot. Grounding.

"Want you," Jongin exhales shakily into the space between them. His hands clench and unclench on the collar of Mark's shirt, rumpling it beyond repair. Want bubbles up from his stomach, burns under his skin. They haven't even gotten their shoes off yet. Christ.

"Yeah," Mark agrees, fisting the sides of Jongin's coat, eyes darkening. "Yeah, hyung, come on."

They barely make it to the bedroom, getting there only by Mark's insistence. It's been a while, for Jongin, a job and a kid not allowing for relationships much less random hookups. He scrambles on top of Mark on the bed, desperation burning under his skin as he slots their clothed erections together.

The pressure is _good,_ makes them both moan together, and Jongin really won't mind if his first orgasm comes from some random frottage. They have the whole weekend ahead of them, plenty of time for rounds two and up but Mark's hot hand on the back of his nape pulls him to the present.

"Hyung, slow down," Mark says, voice hoarse. " _Jongin,_ slow down," he orders when Jongin wouldn't stop.

The command in his voice goes straight to Jongin's dick, makes it twitch inside his jeans. Jongin moans but stills. Mark looks up at him, mouth bitten red and swollen from the kissing, pupils blown wide and the most devastating little smirk on his face.

"So you like that, huh?"

He flips them around easily, straddling Jongin's thighs and pinning Jongin's wrists by the sides of his head. It's so easy for him to do that, arousal trips down Jongin's spine and spreads to the tips of his fingers.

"Mark please," he pants, trying to buck up, but Mark's weight keeps him grounded, "touch me, please."

Mark lowers himself down, starts pressing feather-light kisses down his jaw, sucking and biting and then soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Don't worry, hyung," he whispers, husky voice making Jongin shiver. "I'll take care of you."

-

In hindsight, Jongin should really learn to lock his door. Just because Minseok and Baekhyun and Mark have drilled it in him that the apartment is as safe as a well--safe, doesn't mean people won't just barge into his house at any given time of the day.

It wouldn't have mattered if it was _any_ person. Anybody but Junmyeon and Jongdae.

And they'd been getting to the good part, too. Jongin's favorite part too. When Mark bottoms out and his voice gets all rough like Jongin's asshole is the _best_ thing that Mark has stuck his dick into.

He's so hot like this, lips skimming Jongin's jaw and hands gripping his hips possessively. Jongin doesn't know if Mark is aware how his expression gets when he's on top of Jongin. Little teasing smirk on his lips, looking like he wants nothing but eat Jongin up.

Mark pulls back, until only the crown of his dick is inside Jongin's asshole, before slamming back in, punching Jongin's prostate in the process.

Jongin wails, grabs the comforter for something to hold on to, to ground himself.

"M-mark, ah-- _Mark_!"

Mark just chuckles, leans back and fucks Jongin. Hard and rough and fast, pressing against his prostate with every other thrust.

Then Mark does that _thing_ , swivels his hips _just_ right, while tugging at Jongin's cock at the same time, and Jongin's mind whites.

He screams. His eyes sting.

Mark bends down, lips hovering close to Jongin, hips unrelenting where they're slapping against Jongin's ass. He chuckles. "So loud, Jonginnie."

And if that doesn't send sparks down Jongin's stomach, makes him moan pathetically.

Over the course of the day and a half, Jongin learns that Mark gets this laser-focus intensity when he's fucking Jongin. As if his sole purpose for existing at that moment is just to ruin Jongin with his cock. It works, every time. Jongin gets dragged along, too. With how good Mark fucks him.

That's probably why neither of register the sound of the door opening, and only gets out of it when they hear Jongdae's shrill scream. 

"Holy hell!"

It's followed shortly by Junmyeon's even higher screech.

"Jesus--Jongin!"

Mark freezes, blood draining from his face and from his other aspects. Jongin can feel the moment Mark's dick goes limp. He pulls out, gathers the blanket around himself.

"Oh my god, oh my god," he whispers repeatedly. Horrified.

Jongin whines childishly. He was getting _laid._

Mark, on the other hand, slaps Jongin's arm.

His brothers stand on the doorway, both of them with a hand over his eyes.

"Jesus, Jongin, _get dressed._ "

Jongin takes his time to sit up, grabs some of the comforter from Mark to cover himself up. "Why didn't you knock."

Junmyeon makes a noise that's somewhere between a dying whale and a seal. "You were _screaming_."

"Should've knocked."

"I thought you were _dying_ Jongin, get dressed!"

Jongin sighs, and pulls his pants on.

-

Jongin's dining table has never been more uncomfortable. No one is meeting anyone's eyes. Save for Jongdae, who keeps making his eyebrows move in ways that Jongin thinks is _supposed_ to be suggestive. Jongin would blush, if it wasn't Jongdae. He had walked in on Jongin having sex with his partners one too many times.

On one hand, he's mortified. On the other, he was finally getting fucked properly.

Mark fidgets, eyes downcast and staring at the rice in front of him. He's nothing like the man who was destroying Jongin in the bedroom earlier, drowning in Jongin's shirt. He looks more like the college kid who lives next door.

Jongin feels bad, so he starts the conversation.

"So... nice of you to stop by."

Jongdae snorts.

Junmyeon looks pained, chopsticks clenched tightly in one hand. "Yes, well, sorry for the short notice. We were in the area and we thought it'd be nice to see you."

"Clearly that's not the case," Jongdae murmurs, a hint of a smirk curling on the corner of his lips.

Jongin kicks his leg underneath the table, Jongdae blinks at him.

Junmyeon sighs.

"I think we haven't been introduced properly," Junmyeon says, it's aimed at Mark, who has finally regained enough brain function to start in on breakfast.

Mark startles, meet Junmyeon's eyes for a split second before looking down again, blushing even harder than before.

Jongin puts his hand on Mark's thigh, squeezes. Mark's shoulders lose their tension a little.

"This is Mark," Jongin says, "my neighbor."

"Neighbor." Jongdae repeats drily.

"Oh, I'm uh--I'm Mark Lee. It's nice to meet you." Mark gets up to give everyone a proper bow, Jongin sees Junmyeon agreeing to his manners.

"We've met, haven't we, Mark-ssi?" Jongdae drawls. "When I was dropping Haerin off the other day."

"Um. Yes."

"What do you do, Mark-ssi?" It's Junmyeon who's asking, polite even at the circumstances.

"I'm--uh, still at school."

"I see." Junmyeon nods. "How old are you, Mark-ssi?"

"Twenty-three, this year," Mark says quietly.

"Twenty-three," Jongdae repeats. "What do you see in this old hag then?" Jongdae jabs his thumb at Jongin.

Mark blushes at the same time as Jongin says a stern, "hyung."

"He's studying architecture, Junmyeon-hyung," Jongin says, averting the conversation from Mark.

"Oh?" Junmyeon's eyebrows climb steadily to his hairline. "Are you in your final semester, then?"

Mark shakes his head. "I, uh, I'm on my sixth semester right now."

"I see."

Junmyeon's chopsticks clink against his bowl noisily. The awkwardness is so palpable Jongin can cut it like _cake_.

"Are you job hunting already, then?"

"No, I'm ah, still looking for internships. Minseok-hyung offered me one at his firm."

"Kim Minseok-nim." Junmyeon nods. "Right, Jongin told me. He's your neighbor, right, Jongin?"

"Yeah." 

"If you're twenty-three, shouldn't you be in your final year already?" Jongdae blurts out.

"I'm. Um. I took a year off."

"Oh?" Jongdae blinks. "Why?"

Mark seems flustered enough. Even Jongin doesn't know this part of his story. "I-uh--I um," he stammers.

"That's quite enough," Jongin says. "Stop scaring him, Jongdae."

Jongdae holds his hands up in clear surrender. "Whoops," he says. He grins instead, cradling his chin in his hand. "So, Mark, what does your dad do?"

Jongin groans.

-

"So..." Jongdae drawls.

"Can it, hyung."

"You're a cradle robber now, huh."

"I said can it," Jongin spits, maybe putting down the plate rougher than necessary. "Mark's old enough to make his own decisions."

"Still, Jongin, when I said you should maybe try for another relationship, I didn't mean it quite like this."

"I was his age when I decided to get married, didn't I?"

"Don't you think it's weird?" Jongdae asks, leaning on his hip against the counter, waving his hand about. "He's a college student but he can afford to live in a place like this?"

"His dad paid for it, hyung."

"Daddy issues, huh."

"No," Jongin sighs. "Stop being an asshole. You'll like him, I promise."

Jongdae softens, a hand kneading Jongin's shoulder. "I like him fine. I know he's a good kid. I just don't want you to get hurt, Jongin-ah. Any of you."

That has Jongin pausing. "I won't," he hesitates.

"There's something you're not telling me," Jongdae says. "You're holding back. What's wrong?"

"He, well." Jongin sighs. He turns off the faucet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to face Jongdae properly. "Haerin likes him so much and I'm just.. what if this doesn't work out.. what if..." Jongin trails off, his fingers finding the rings around his neck again.

Jongdae bumps his shoulder with Jongin's. "That's a tricky one," he says. "Did you talk to him about it?"

"I..." Jongin shrugs.

"You haven't," Jongdae deadpans. "Kim Jongin."

"I don't know how to bring it up," he whines. "It never seems like a good time."

"If you say it never seems like a good time then you won't ever find a good enough time." Jongdae sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Talk to him." Jongdae nudges. "Figure it out together."

Jongin pushes the tip of his index finger through one of the rings, tugging on it lightly. "I will."

-

His brothers leave in a flurry of _thank you, Jongin-ah_ (Junmyeon) and _introduce me to your other neighbor's boyfriend!_ (Jongdae) and _call me!_ (Junmyeon and Jongdae).

Mark sags against the backrest of the couch after, head lolled to the side. He'd looked paler than he'd been this morning. Jongin bends down to kiss him just to make sure he's still alive.

Mark blushes endearingly, and hides his face behind his hands when Jongin pulls away.

" _Not_ the way I imagined meeting the in-laws."

Jongin perks up. "You imagined meeting the in-laws?"

That earns Jongin a kick from a red Mark, whose pout disappears when Jongin suggests they eat out after they pick up Haerin from the school trip.

"Barbecue?" Mark asks with the meekest voice he could muster and Jongin can't exactly say no at that.

Haerin squeals excitedly when Mark pops his head beside Jongin, and insists she sits beside Mark on the restaurant. She pays rapt attention to Mark, who's detailing the process of him grilling the meat. Complete with sound effects. The thick pork belly hits the hot grill with a sizzle. Mark tilts his head while he watches it cook, and Haerin follows his motion. Similar down even to the acuteness of the angles of their necks.

Jongin kind of wants to burst.

Once meat is done and put aside, they reach for the scissors at the same time.

"Ah, sorry, hyung." Mark flusters. He withdraws his hand and balls it to a fist on the table.

Jongin gives him a smile, and grabs the scissors, pulling the cooked meat closer to himself and cutting it into smaller pieces for Haerin to eat. Mark tends to the meat still on the grill, flipping them to make sure they're cooked evenly.

They eat, and it's a fun time. Always is with Mark. Mark wipes Haerin's face when she gets sauce all over her mouth, and lets her taste a bit of his spicier concoction. They both snicker when Haerin tries to spit the spicy meat back out, scrunching her face up.

"Oppa, can I have more meat?"

Mark hums, and grabs the scissors to cut a freshly grilled slab to pieces, stacking them up on Haerin's plate afterwards.

Jongin stares, doesn't realize, that he was reaching for it for the same reason Jongin was.

Something settles in Jongin's stomach, warm like the embers burning under the grill, fiery like one.

It's dangerously close to love, a lot closer to contentment. Jongin brushes his finger against the rings around his neck, and doesn't know what to make of the feeling.

-

When it happens, Jongin barely remembers what causes it at all. He just knows the sudden tensing of Mark's legs on his lap, the rattled breath he takes. Just knows the way Mark gets up in a rush, body shaking and eyes wide. 

When they meet Jongin's, they're full of fear.

Mark pushes himself up, rushes to Jongin's bedroom and slams the door shut.

It takes a while for Jongin to unfreeze from the shock. He makes himself move, strides towards his bedroom with worry eating away at his gut.

"Mark?" Jongin knocks three times. "Mark, are you okay?"

Jongin waits for an answer and gets nothing in return. He's about to reach for the door knob when it rattles on its own, and he comes face to face with a red-eyed Mark, breathing heavy as he looks up at Jongin.

Mark snaps his gaze away, shoulders past Jongin.

"I have to--I'm sorry--I'm gonna--" Mark stammers, striding towards the door. He takes a second to look back at Jongin, so close to tears Jongin can see his shoulders shake. "I'm sorry," he whispers one last time, and closes the door to Jongin's apartment.

Jongin is left there alone in the middle of his living room, dread pooling in his stomach.

-

Minseok shows up at his door the next day after Haerin has fallen asleep, a pack of beer in one hand and home-made fried chicken in the other. Jongin lets him in without a word, and Minseok makes himself comfortable on his couch.

Minseok sighs, handing Jongin a can of beer. The can clicks and fizzes when Minseok opens it.

"So Mark had an anxiety attack, didn't he?"

Jongin sits on the edge of the sofa, elbows digging to his knees. Is that what it was? "Yeah."

Minseok hums. "Did he explain or did he just bolt?"

"He left," Jongin answers after a beat.

Minseok nods. "I see."

Jongin doesn't know what Minseok sees. The man picks up the remote and flicks through channels until he finds one that displays a soccer game. The lowered volume means Jongin can hear every move Minseok is making. The low light of the living room, only illuminated by the television, however, means he can't read Minseok's expression as well.

Minseok leans back on the couch and nibbles on a piece of fried chicken.

"Mark was in a really bad place when he moved in. Literally. His apartment was empty. No tables, no bed, no nothing." Minseok starts. He pauses to take a long pull of his beer. "His mother just died, he just got into uni. A country away. His dad just threw him there alone," Minseok says.

Jongin doesn't reply.

"He slept on the floor for two days because he was too sad to do anything," Minseok spits out bitterly. "He was only eighteen. God, I hate his father." Minseok throws his head back and downs his beer, crushing the can with his hand afterwards and wiping his mouth. It's about the closest Jongin has ever seen aggression on Minseok. It doesn't look good on him, but Jongin understands.

"But you helped him out," Jongin offers. "He looks fine, now."

Minseok shakes his head. “We did what we could, Baekhyun and I.” He leans forward, hunches his shoulders together, frowning. “He did all this on his own. Took a year off. Changed majors.” Minseok smiles. “Went to therapy.”

Jongin takes a sip of his own beer, and he could imagine it, a younger Minseok, taking a younger Mark in. He thinks about Mark's apartment, and the lack of photos in them. Thinks about how Mark spends most of his time at Minseok and Baekhyun's when he's not at Jongin's.

The beer tastes bitter on Jongin's tongue, he clenches his fists. "Why are you telling me all this, hyung?"

"Because, I want you to understand him," Minseok says, mimicking Jongin's pose, "and I want you to accept him as he is."

"I have," Jongin croaks out. "I do."

Minseok stays silent for a beat longer than Jongin is necessarily comfortable with, observing Jongin with a calculating gaze. His crushed of beer lay forgotten on the table, some of the liquid dripping to the surface below.

"He's a wonderful man, Jongin," Minseok says quietly, breaking the silence, "and he deserves only the best."

"I know." 

"I hope you do," Minseok says again, he starts packing up, balling up plastics and wads of tissue, "and I hope you realize he's worth your extra effort."

-

Minseok's words linger in Jongin's mind long after he's gone, follows him through the next day to work, through Mark's short apologetic text saying he can't look after Haerin that day. Jongin stares at the text, a thousand things whirling in his brain.

"Where's Mark-oppa?" Haerin asks, rubbing her eyes sleepily, still in her school uniform. "Did he have another exam?"

Jongin doesn't answer, patting her head as he collects her. "Thank you, noona," Jongin says to Joohyun, who just smiles at him and gives him a pat on the shoulder. Jongin bends down to hug her, thanking her once again for looking after Haerin that afternoon.

"Dad? Where's Mark-oppa?" Haerin asks, voice small, later as they're driving home.

"Mark-oppa doesn't feel well today, honey," Jongin explains, leaning back on the driver's seat, hand unwittingly clenching around the steering wheel. "So he's taking the day off."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine, he just needs to rest for a while." Jongin meets Haerin's sad eyes through the rearview mirror and gives her a smile. "Don't worry. He just needs a little rest, and then he'll be right as rain."

"Can we visit him later?" She asks hopefully, twiddling with her thumbs.

"I'm afraid not, honey," Jongin says. Lying to her feels bad, but he doesn't know how else to explain it. "He needs all the rest he can get right now, when he gets better, we'll visit him, okay?"

"Okay," Haerin acquiesces easily. "Can we make him a card? When Sooyoung got sick we made her a card so she can get better quickly."

Jongin finds himself smiling. He doesn't know what he did to deserve such a caring daughter but he's grateful. "Of course, honey. We'll make one when we get home."

-

The incessant ringing on his doorbell later that night isn't expected, neither is Mark standing on his doorway, eyes rimmed red and hair in disarray. He keeps tugging at the collar of his shirt, stretching it beyond what it's already stretched.

"Hey," Mark exhales, voice shaky, "sorry I didn't call ahead."

"That's alright," Jongin replies, reaching for Mark's wrist and tugging him closer. Mark falls into him easily, all the fight gone out of him. He sags against Jongin, burying his face on Jongin's shoulder. He feels so small, collapsing under the weight of his own thoughts and existence. Jongin wants to take them all away from him. Wants the Mark who stands strong and solid for him. But most of all, wants the Mark who smiles at him over the rim of his mug, the one who teases Jongin about his overprotective tendencies.

"It's alright," Jongin whispers into Mark's hair, holding him tight. "It's alright."

Mark shakes, fingers twisting into the material of Jongin's shirt. They stand in the doorway of Jongin's apartment, where he met Mark all those months ago, the cool night air seeping in instead of the summer sun. Jongin tightens his arms around Mark, wants to keep him there where he can protect him.

Mark sobs, takes one, long shuddering breath.

"It's alright."

-

"My mom raised me on her own," Mark says, words spilled quietly across the bed. He curls a little bit more on himself and closes his eyes after the confession. Takes another breath as if it helps him go on.

Jongin wants so close the gap between them, will feel better when. But Mark wears his vulnerability like a shield. Grows pricks and needles around himself. Jongin wants to pull them off one by one until his fingers bleed.

"My dad... was... absent," he trails off. "He was there but not. I don't mind. Mom was enough," Mark continues, smiling. Jongin wonders what's going through his mind, if he's thinking about his late mother. How much he loves her. How gentle does a person have to be to singlehandedly raise a person like Mark, Jongin wonders.

"And I.. she had.. she had cancer," Mark's voice drops to a whisper, breaks at the last word. He clears his throat. "I um. She died on my last year of high school, right before I got my college announcement." Mark laughs. "She'd always wanted me to go to uni here, so I did. For her. We were going to live here together. She was going to--" Mark stops, breath hitching.

There's silence, heavily tinged with Mark's sadness, with his unfinished story.

Jongin throws caution to the wind then, and reaches forward for Mark's hand, intertwining their fingers together. In the dark, he can't make out Mark's features clearly, can only see the silhouette of him, what is lit from the low light streaming in from outside. It's enough for him to see the track of tears, enough for him to sidle close to Mark, to pull him close.

Mark doesn't resist, barely does. He twists his fingers in Jongin's shirt again, as if it's the only thing tethering him here, burying his face on Jongin's chest.

"I'm sorry," he croaks out, voice muffled by the fabric of Jongin's shirt. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jongin whispers, running his hands up Mark's back, fingertips treading the tense edges of his scapulae, the dip beneath. Feels him shiver and release another gut-wrenching sob. "Nothing."

-

The morning brings with it a tranquility in the air. Unbroken even by Jongin's rousing. He blinks awake, eyes burning from the lack of actual sleep, his night spent listening to every breath and sigh that comes out of Mark instead.

Mark lies still in his arms, head pillowed on Jongin biceps. His forearm has lost all feeling, but Jongin doesn't mind. He takes a moment to take Mark in. To observe the delicacy in the rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyelashes lay stark against the skin of his cheeks. He looks young, like this. More fitting for his age than the day-to-day Mark who's too smart for his own good. Too kind for his own good.

Jongin dares, to touch. To gently trace his fingertips from browbone to browbone, down the cradle of Mark's jaw, where Jongin's palm fits perfectly.

Here he stands, at a crossroads that could lead anywhere. Anywhere he wants. Anywhere that's safe.

It's time, he thinks, to screw safety.

Jongin slips out of bed, careful not to jostle Mark awake. The boy makes a small noise, face screwing up. Jongin freezes, afraid he might've woken him up from a much needed sleep. But then he turns to burrow in the remnants of Jongin's warmth, forehead smoothing out, and something fierce burns inside Jongin's chest, solidifying his intent.

Jongin walks to his dresser, fishes out the old velvet box he's kept pristine for seven years. Seemingly untouched by time and the changing tide of life. Jongin sets it down, unclasps his necklace, and puts the rings in.

He puts the box down inside his drawer, next to Soojung's favorite music box. He glances at it a beat longer than necessary before pushing the drawer close, and goes to wake Haerin up.

-

"What have you been doing?" Jongin asks curiously. "I've been trying to reach you forever."

Mark's eyes are comically wide through his glasses when he answers his door, hand frozen on the doorknob. The overalls should be a tell-tale sign but it's not until Jongin glimpses the white cast of gloves up Mark's forearms that he realizes.

"Sorry," Mark says sheepishly, scratching his head. "I'm repainting."

"Repainting?"

Mark nods, and lets Jongin in. He closes the door behind him, and is assaulted with the smell of fresh paint right away. He sets the bag of food on the kitchen, before padding into the living room. Mark has pushed his couch and other furnitures nearer to the kitchen and covered them up with plastic, rolled up his rug and stored it away. The floor is covered with newspapers, and a container of paint and roller sits on the corner of the room.

Jongin crosses his arms as Mark slips the gloves back on and picks up the roller again.

"Beige?"

Mark shrugs, rolls a fresh coat of paint on top of a navy-blue patch. "I thought the room could use some beige."

Jongin observes him, before stepping forward. "Do you have any other brushes?"

"Oh." Mark pauses. "Haerin?"

"Mom's," Jongin answers, rolling up his sleeves.

"They're in the plastic in the spare room."

Jongin walks down the hallway to get them. He doesn't go here, much. They're always spending time at his place. Whenever Jongin tries to come over Mark would just show up at his place, freshly showered and grinning. There's something somber about the blue walls in Mark's house. A remnant of a previous life lived. Whose, Jongin doesn't know. Jongin has never been to the spare room, and his steps falter when he opens the door.

The room has been painted cream. 

The other thing that has Jongin's attention though, is that it's empty.

Their apartment layout comes with two bedrooms. Minseok and Baekhyun turned theirs into a study and both of Jongin's bedrooms are occupied. Jongin supposes he doesn't know what a college kid like Mark even needs a second room for. Jongin never really asked why Donghyuck didn't just move in there.

He grabs the brush from a lone container on the far wall, and goes back out to join Mark.

"Hyung, you didn't get gloves?" Mark frowns.

Jongin shrugs. "This is fine."

They paint well until the late afternoon. Between the two of them, they manage to get the living room done all at once.

"I'm gonna do my room next." Mark sighs, leaning his head on Jongin's shoulder. They're literally watching paint dry, staring at sunlight filtering in through the transparent balcony doors and bouncing off the bright walls. The room smells like paint thinner, and Jongin still has white paint under his fingernails. Mark's overalls are dirty with splatters of beige, and Jongin's shirt didn't escape the slaughter, but Jongin has never felt more content. "Ivory with this beige as an accent color, what do you think?"

Jongin's hand sneaks up to play with the soft hair on the nape of Mark's neck. "Good choice."

"I'm gonna turn the spare room into an office," Mark explains. "Have an architecture desk in there like Minseok-hyung."

Jongin hums. "That sounds great Mark."

Mark pauses a beat, before continuing. "And I ordered an extra desk too," he says quietly. "For you, or whoever, in case you want to--you know, work. You don't have any work space on your own. In the house."

"And here," Mark shifts around a little bit, head leaving Jongin's shoulder, and then he's pressing a key card into Jongin's hand. "A key to mine," he says. "So you don't have to borrow Minseok-hyung's, and so you can use the study anytime you want."

Something lodges itself in Jongin's throat, makes it hard to speak. Jongin stares at their clasped hands. He feels undeserving, and small, but he accepts it.

"Thank you," Jongin whispers, pulling Mark close and kissing him in a daze, at lost of what else to do. "Thank you."

-

"I just don't know what to do," Jongin says into the receiver.

 _"Jongin."_ Jongdae sighs. _"I have a surgery in half an hour, can't this wait?"_

Jongin winces, stares up at his own ceiling. "Sorry, hyung. I just--I feel like I'm at my wit's end."

 _"I honestly don't know what to tell you,"_ Jongdae says. _"You care about him, he cares about you. He knows you have a kid and he gave you the keys to his place instead of bailing."_

Jongin doesn't answer. He hears the rustling of papers from the other side, the tinny voice of a hospital-wide announcement.

_"The signs are all there, Jongin. Now the question is, what's stopping you?"_

-

"Are you still worried about her?"

Jongin drums his fingers on top of the bar. "No I'm not."

Mark bums his shoulder against Jongin's, laughs quietly. "She's doing fine, Jongin. Look."

She has. She doesn't wobble anymore now, glides steadily on ice from cone to cone. Jongin and Mark both there to witness the change over the month.

Jongin swallows.

Mark's there every saturday now. For breakfast and then skating lessons. Haerin wouldn't leave if he wasn't there. Just another way Jongin has let Mark embed himself in their lives, let the course of their week entangle, make a habit out of Mark's presence there.

Jongin takes a steadying breath in, lets the tension out of his shoulders with the exhale.

Permancence is a luxury Jongin has learned to live without, since Soojung. An absence is expected. In a way, it will always be there. Mark doesn't fill out any spaces left behind. But rather, carves out a space on his own, that makes the other ones inside Jongin's lives unnoticeable.

Mark is a fixed point.

(Not a permanence, yet. But they can work on that.) 

Jongin grabs Mark's hand, intertwines their fingers together. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Mark's smile widen.

"I know," Jongin says, squeezing. Mark's hand is warm. "She's doing great."

-

_i know who you want me to be_

_but i'm just_

_not_

_there_

_yet_

_-_

"Oppa, my birthday party is next week, will you come?"

"Birthday party?" Mark turns towards Jongin for confirmation, hands pausing where they're peeling a tangerine for Haerin.

"At my parent's," Jongin elaborates. "Haerin wanted to ask you."

"Yeah!" Haerin says. "Dad and I made invitation cards. Please come oppa, please come to my birthday party."

Mark nods, puts a piece of the fruit in Haerin's hand. She eats it dutifully. The slight sourness of it makes Haerin scrunch up her face. Jongin steals one from Mark's outstretched hand to take a taste.

"Next Saturday?"

"Next Saturday."

"Of course I'll come, Haerinnie," he says. "What should I wear?"

"Blue!"

Haerin looks like she's vibrating in her seat, excited for the birthday party that Jongin's family had planned for her. Jongin grins, steals another piece of tangerine from Mark's hand. Mark shoots him a look, Jongin smirks.

Mark sighs exasperatedly, but pops a piece of tangerine into his own mouth. His face scrunching up because of the sourness, eyes narrowing. He's adorable, Jongin wants him forever. 

The next piece, Mark feeds it directly to Haerin. Jongin lies his head on his folded arms, observing Mark. Mark blinks and turns to him, and their eyes meet. It takes Jongin all but one second to drop his mouth open, demanding to be fed too.

"Big baby," Mark mutters, but he's pressing a tangerine piece on Jongin's bottom lip. "Eat."

Jongin does, kissing Mark's fingertips in the process. Mark blushes, fingers twitching, eyes flitting to Haerin.

Jongin lifts his head up, and finds Haerin staring at them, frowning in thought.

"Well, won't you look at the time," Jongin says breezily, stretching up. "Come get your jacket, Haerinnie. We'll be late for your lesson."

-

"Are you going to marry Mark-oppa?"

Jongin pauses, hands stilling on the steering wheel, he flashes back to the conversation they had a few months prior. He thinks back about tangerines and Saturday mornings and dropping Haerin off for her school trip. "Would you like me to marry Mark-oppa?"

Haerin doesn't answer.

"Actually, Haerinnie, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Jongin blurts out. "If--if I start dating Mark, would you--would you be okay, with that?" He stammers.

Haerin waits a beat before answering. "You won't leave me, right?"

"Of course not. I'm never going to leave you. Never." Jongin pulls up the driveway of his parents' house, pulls the brake and turns around to face her. "You're my baby and I love you. I would never leave you for anyone or anything on this earth."

Haerin fiddles with the hem of her blue dress. "Then it's okay," she says quietly. "I like Mark-oppa."

-

Jongin's mother opens the door when Jongin knocks. She smiles up at him warmly. There are more lines around her eyes than Jongin remembers. He should visit more often.

"Son," she pulls him down into a hug. Jongin breathes in the rosewater scent of her, a hand around her back.

"Hi mom," he says.

She lets him go and immediately focuses in on Haerin, hands clasped playfully in front of her. "Well well! My favorite little girl is here."

Haerin giggles when she bends down to envelope her in a hug, their baby blue dresses matching.

"Come inside," his mother says, "everyone is already here."

Haerin immediately shoots off to play with Jeno and Doyoung in the backyard, no doubt going to rumple her dress beyond repair. His father and his brothers are already talking in the sunny living room, sitting around the table with a glass of coffee in their hands.

"Jongin." his father shoots up, pulling him into a warm hug. "Where's Haerin?" He asks, looking around. "Where is she?"

"Went to the backyard immediately." Jongin chuckles. "You know how she is."

He claps him on the back and laughs heartily. "Sounds like someone I know."

Jongin rolls his eyes. "I wasn't that bad."

Jongin takes a seat next to Jongdae, just as Joohyun hands him a mug of tea.

"So," Jongdae drawls, looking pointedly at Jongin, "did you hear the news, dad?"

"What news?"

Jongdae hums. "Curious."

"Jongdae," his dad says, frowning and pushing his glasses up, scolding Jongdae lightly like he's eleven instead of thirty one. "You know I don't like it when you're being obscure like that."

Junmyeon clears his throat pointedly, evidently not willing to breach the subject of Jongin's love life so early in the morning. Thank God someone in his family has _some_ tact. Jongin meets his eyes and nods lightly. "Anyway, dad. Did I tell you that Kim Minseok is Jongin's neighbor?"

-

The guests start arriving half an hour later, kids with their blue dresses and shirts and their parents bringing gifts. Jongin's family isn't overly wealthy, but they're well off. Especially now that Junmyeon is the head of a firm and Jongdae got his specialization license. Their backyard is big enough to host a party of fifteen kids and their parents, sporting a low table for the kids to sit around and a few chairs and long tables for foods and their parents.

Jongdae somehow gets roped into being the MC for the event, which he does well enough. He gets along swimmingly with kids, despite his insistence of never having any. His whiny voice booms through the rented speakers, seems to shake the well-trimmed grass with it. The mid-morning sun shining on the blue decorations and the small tiara on Haerin's head makes it a picture perfect birthday. She claps excitedly as Jongdae presents her to the audience, takes a twirl to show off the dress Jongin had gotten her the week prior.

Only one thing still sits dreadfully in Jongin's stomach. The fact that Mark hasn't arrived yet.

Jongin's attention is pulled away from Jongdae pretending to be a tiger by the ringing of a doorbell, and his mother's following soft muffled exclaimations. Jongin turns around just in time to catch Mark walking through his living room, slightly breathless, but his seashell-patterned blue button up is pristine.

His mother trails behind Mark, a hand latched on the crook of Minseok's elbow, the other on Baekhyun's back. She laughs at something Baekhyun said, blushing slightly. And Jongin knows that duo have got her smitten. 

Mark's eyes find him and he visibly brightens. Jongin can't help but smile, tilting his head to ask him to come out.

Mark turns around to say something to his mother, bowing and extending the wrapped box in his hand to her. She waves her hand about, accepting the gift for Haerin and guiding the three of them outside through the open patio door, where the party is.

"Jongin," his mother says as she steps down the stairs, smiling too knowingly for her own good. "Your guests are here."

"Haerin's guests," Jongin corrects her. "She invited them on her own."

"Where should we put these gifts, omonim?" Baekhyun asks softly. "Your garden is so lovely."

Minseok looks around the backyard, exclaiming. "Baekhyun is right, your house is beautiful. As expected of an architect. The layout of the garden is simply tasteful."

His mother laughs. "This one's a charmer," she says, patting Minseok's arm lightly. "Let me put these away. Mark-ssi, you go keep Jongin company."

His mother leaves with Minseok and Baekhyun to put their gifts in the pile on the corner of the garden, laughing pleasantly at something Minseok said.

Mark stands exactly a meter away from him, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, the tips of his ears slightly red. "Hi," he hesitates. "So. Your mom's nice."

Jongin fights off a grin. "Glad you like her."

-

Jongin's family is surprisingly taking it well with Haerin inviting his adult neighbors to her seventh birthday party. She perks up visibly when she spots Mark, dragging Mark around when they're preparing for games, introducing him to every single one of her friends as her "Mark-oppa." Mark ends up spotting for him, taking care of Haerin through the games and meal.

The party goes off without a hitch, the kids are loud and messy, but that's to be expected. Jongin's kept preoccupied by the parents coming to talk to him and keeping an eye on Haerin. Sweat makes his shirt stick to his back under the warm sun. Every time he hears Haerin giggle, he checks on her just to make sure she's okay.

His mom, especially, takes it all in stride. He's glad and relieved that his family seems to like Mark so much, but that doesn't mean they'll stop being overbearingly obnoxious about it.

She sidles up to Jongin, an empty plate in her hands and winks at him. "Nice young man there, Jonginnie."

Jongin groans, taking the plate from her hands. "Mom."

"Go, go make more syrup," she pats his arm. "We ran out."

Jongin fakes a put upon sighs, but complies, relieved to be in the cool shade of the house instead of out in the sun.

Jongin pours himself a glass of cold water as he waits for the water to boil for the sugar.

He doesn't expect Mark to come looking for him not five minutes later, pushing his hair out of his eyes and plucking at his sweat-soaked shirt.

"Your mother told me you needed help with the syrup?"

"I.." Jongin trails off. "Sure."

Mark leans against the counter next to him, arms crossed. "So what exactly do you need help with?"

Jongin stares outside over the simmering water, at Haerin surrounded by her friends, his dad now being the one keeping an eye on her. "I have no clue."

Mark snorts. "I like your mom."

Jongin bumps his shoulder against Mark's. "I like her too."

"Seriously though, hyung," Mark says, he hops on the counter, feet dangling beneath him. "Your family is awesome. Junmyeon just offered me an internship in his firm. Your dad told him I had to work for Junmyeon's firm _after_ I graduate. Pretty sure Joohyun adopted me. Your mom wouldn't stop feeding me," Mark rambles on, waving his hand about. "Jongdae is kind of a mystery to me but Baekhyun-hyung seems to like him so I like him too. Doyoungie and Jeno are so cute. I'm kinda thinking about stealing Jeno away. Do you think Joohyun-noona would let me babysit him for like, a day?"

Jongin thinks about tangerines and Saturdays, and nights spent in Jongin's kitchen just talking.

His body moves on its own when he steps into the space between Mark's legs and kisses him, tastes the salt and sun right from his lips. Mark lets out a surprised sound, hands winding themselves around Jongin's neck, but he doesn't fight it. Lets Jongin mould their lips together, sighing contently into the kiss.

They break away, and Mark smiles, sweet and soft and Jongin's.

"What was that for?" he murmurs.

Jongin slides his hands around Mark's waist, cages him in. He wishes he could untuck the damp fabric and feel skin, but he settles for crooking a finger in Mark's belt loop, nudging Mark's lips open for another kiss.

"Hyung," Mark whispers, so close he could count the moles on his cheek, the minute shudder when he inhales. "What's up?"

Jongin reaches over to turn the stove off, it dies down with a loud _click_ in the quiet kitchen.

Mark fits here, too. In his family home, with his family. Jongin thinks about bravery, and thinks about Mark.

"I haven't been fair to you," Jongin starts, his fingers reaches for the necklace out of habit, but finds none. He rests his hand back down. "I haven't been fair to you at all."

Mark doesn't answer, eyes flitting up hesitantly, but he doesn't pull away, keeps his closeness with Jongin.

"I'm sorry, Mark," Jongin whispers, "we're whatever you want to be. Whatever you need."

It takes Mark a beat too long to answer, and Jongin makes to pull away, to give Mark space to think, but he tightens the hands around Jongin's neck, winds his legs around Jongin's too. Jongin is trapped, forced to look as Mark's throat works as he thinks. The nerves bubbling in his stomach warring with his want. 

"Do we need to define this?" He asks. "Us?"

"We do," Jongin says, "because you deserve it."

"Why now?" Mark asks, the lines of his face wary, making him look older than he actually is.

Jongin takes a breath, pressing closer. Mark fits, like this. He fits everywhere.

"Because I was afraid," he whispers, he can't meet Mark's eyes. "Scared that you won't stick around. And how that'll hurt Haerin--hurt me." Jongin swallows. "It was easier to pretend we were something I could break off on a whim, that not telling anybody--even Haerin, would make it safe for her and me if you ever leave," he continues.

Mark stays quiet, looking expectantly at Jongin.

"But I was wrong," he goes on, "I was a coward. You showed me how brave you are and I'm done--I'm done being afraid." He dares to look up, at universes combined. "I like you, I like everything about you. You're good for us--for me. You make me happy. Will you--do you--" Jongin stutters.

The break feels heavy, words and their weight swirling together in his head. His chest feels like it's about to burst.

"Do I make you happy, too?" Jongin whispers.

"Of course," Mark replies without hesitation. "A lot. More than you could possibly think."

"Then could you," Jongin swallows, "stay happy, with me?" 

There's a second of silence where Jongin thinks Mark would reject him, Mark staring at him intently, mouth open like he's about to say something, but nothing comes out.

Jongin worries that it was, too much after all. The daughter, the commitment, the confession. But then Mark is pushing their mouths together again, a hand behind Jongin's head, the other cradling his jaw. Jongin gasps, and Mark lets out a giggle.

Jongin can't help but laugh, too, giddy and happy and overflowing with Mark, Mark, _Mark._

Jongin's laughter dies down to kiss him properly, mouth moving against Mark's, tightening his arms around Mark. Jongin feels warm, and not because of the summer heat.

The kiss they share seems to last forever, but Mark pulls away first, grinning.

"Of course," Mark breathes out into what remains of the space between them, their foreheads touching. Wet eyes stares up at Jongin. "Of course, Jongin. Of course I could. I love you."

"I love you," Jongin whispers, heartbeat tripping in his ears. He feels complete again, for the first time in two years. "I love you."

-

_And I'm just a fool,_

_but I swear I can change_ _  
I can't steal you the stars,_

 _but I can try every day_ _  
And you know,_

_you've got my second hand heart_

-

EPILOGUE

"Keys, wallets, phone," Jongin lists off. "You got everything you need?"

Mark stares at his reflection on the mirror of Jongin's hallway. He's let his hair grow since his graduation in summer, now it's curling over his ears and eyes. He doesn't know if it suits him at all, but Jongin likes carding his fingers through them, and Haerin says it makes him look fluffy, so he'll keep it, he thinks.

"Yep," Mark answers. "You and Haerin ready?"

"Haerinnie," Jongin calls out, "come on baby, Mark's ready."

Haerin comes bounding down the hallway, her blue coat buttons mismatched all the way up. "Ready!"

"Oh baby." Mark laughs. "Come here, I'll fix your buttons."

Haerin pouts but complies. Mark crouches to unbutton her coat and do it the right side up, tucking a stray hair that has come loose out of her braid behind her ear. He'd done her hair so meticulously this morning; maybe not enough pins.

"Did you get Bunny? The card for Jenjen?"

"I forgot," Haerin whispers. She takes off again, going back to her room to fetch her ever present plushie and the get-well-soon card for Jeno.

Mark sighs as he stands up, leaning against Jongin. "You know, I feel kind of bad for leaving Minseok-hyung and Baekhyun-hyung for Chuseok."

Jongin slides an arm around his waist, pulling him close. "We did ask if they wanted to come along. My mom loves them, she wouldn't mind them spending Chuseok at the house."

"Minseok's stubborn."

"That, he is."

Haerin comes back carrying Bunny and the ivory envelope, latching herself on her dad's leg. Jongin pats her head absentmindedly.

"If everyone's ready, let's go."

"You go first, I'll check around one last time."

Jongin and Haerin put on their shoes as Mark goes around Jongin's--no, _their_ apartment, making sure all the stoves are turned off and all the bedrooms are closed and the lights off. He slows down when he reaches the step of the hallway, the familiar doorstop sitting innocently on the corner of their shoe rack. Mark remembers summer and meeting Jongin, and thinks how lucky, to have found your soulmate and a home at the same time.

His mom would be proud of him, he thinks. She would like the color of his walls, now.

"Babe?" Jongin asks, their overnight bag in one hand, the other holding Haerin's hand. "Everything okay?"

Mark slips into his canvas shoes, picks up his backpack and pecks Jongin on the lips, patting Haerin's head.

"Everything's fine," he says, "let's go."

Jongin leads the way out of the door, and Mark closes it behind him.

_-_

_it's been broken apart but_

_will you_

_still take my second hand heart?_

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> Thank you for going through this journey with me. Thank you for reading. Have a nice day and don't forget to leave a comment :D
> 
> Edit: I actually have an extra sex scene written out that didn't feel right when it's put inside the story. I'll post it as a side story after reveals <3 thank you again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> well im revealed so :] i hope the people who read this enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/carrotbakehyun) | [twt](https://twitter.com/diorboybaek)


End file.
